


No Country for Dead Men

by Herbgerblin (TheEverlastingRandom)



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: And Minor Violence, Cowboy AU, Western reaper au, big yeehaw energy, but not anything crazy, honestly its not even an au because it takes place in the same continuity as taz balance, how do you say cowboy wizards without bursting out laughing, minot references to death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2020-02-10 18:23:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 27,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18665872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheEverlastingRandom/pseuds/Herbgerblin
Summary: A man had most certainly died, this much was true. But the date of his death kept changing in the official records of the Astral Plane. Sometimes it changed drastically, like decades of difference. Other times it was mere minutes. Did the man die the future? In the past? It'll take three of the most powerful bounty hunters in the planar system to solve this wild west mystery.Updates every wednesday





	1. You Folks Ain't from 'Round Here

The first time it happened, Kravitz just assumed that one of the other bounty hunters of the Raven Queen’s retinue had fucked up their paperwork and was just fixing their mistake without causing much of a fuss. After the second and third time it happened, he interrogated everyone in the astral plane who could've been responsible for this occurrence. No one had a clue what was happening. After the fourth time, Kravitz was beckoned by the Raven Queen herself to determine just what the hell was going on.

After a moment of her council, Kravitz called upon the two best hunters, aside from himself, to go on a mission to the Woven Gulch. As Lup and Barry stepped through the portal into his office, he explained the situation:

A man had most certainly died, this much was true. But the date of his death kept changing in the official records of the Astral Plane. Sometimes it changed drastically, like decades of difference. Other times it was mere minutes. Did the man die the future? In the past? Not only that, but his soul was not reported to have entered the Astral Plane at all. The way he died and circumstances surrounding his death stayed the same: bullet wound to the heart, his body found in Refuge, not too far away from the Temple of Istus.

“Previous envoys have confirmed that his body is definitely in the Refuge mortuary,” Kravitz said, concluding his brief.  "We have to collect information about how he died, locate his soul, and send him back here to be judged by The Raven Queen.”

He cleared a stack of papers off his desk and shuffled them neatly into an off-hand pocket dimension before continuing. “We’re going to have to be conspicuous, so any long-distance traveling will have to be done by cart or horseback once we get to Refuge. There will be a base set up for us at one of the rooms of Ren’s Inn for us to confer information. This could be very dangero--”

“You had me at horseback, my man,” Lup cut in, waving her hand in the air excitedly. A genuine grin with just _a hint_ of deviousness was plastered on her face. “I just got the dopest steed and a new outfit, I am so ready for this!”

* * *

Kravitz could hear a very telling voice in his head remind him that his compatriots had spent most of their lives not really getting to enjoy that much of, well, _life_ prior to defeating the Hunger on the day of Story and Song. So--when Lup summoned her Phantom Steed, a equine fire elemental, and immediately took off riding across the open stretch of land between their drop off point and the entrance to Refuge, leaving a straight line of rippling fire marks to scorch the earth--he held back the urge to yell about keeping their appearance’s lowkey.

This urge went double for Barry, who--even though he had chosen, rather sensibly, a perfectly _normal_ horse--also took off galloping across the plane. Though that tidbit could possibly be attributed more to the excitable nature of the young Appaloosa he was riding, and not Barry himself. The horse had no trouble keeping a bead on the fire trail being left by Lup, and the two went blazing over the sunlit earth. A huge grin appeared on Lup’s face as soon as she caught sight of Barry just barely trailing behind her, and with a loud, “ _Heyah!_ ” She snapped the reins of her steed and egged it faster toward the entrance of town.

Kravitz took his time on his ride: a large, black Fresian, who just whinnied causally and kept a steady pace to the entrance. Of course, the horse had the ability to go much, MUCH faster in it’s reaper form. But Kravitz would save that in case the situation got hairy. The last thing the people of this little western community needed to know was that the Grim Reaper himself was rolling in to survey the town’s dead.

It was, however, hard for him not to cut an imposing figure upon arrival. The three of them stopped just past the gate surrounding the outside of the main buildings. Kravitz wore a black pinstripe suit with a long black duster and matching stetson hat. Lup wore a red vest over a fringed petticoat. To avoid needing to ride side-saddle, she opted for leather trousers and knee-length boots instead of an underskirt. She wore a large, red sombrero to shield her eyes from the afternoon sun. The only one of the trio who didn’t look like some sort of big-name gunslinger was Barry, who wore a simple, brown leather vest, tan slouch hat, and signature blue jeans.

The trio got nervous side glances from a good number of passers-by, who quickly averted their eyes and went about their business. It wasn’t very often that three dramatic homebodies appeared at their gates, kicking up clouds of dust like they had just been in a derby. But then again, the last three dramatic homebodies that had appeared had done the town a great deal of good, so these fellas were nothing if not prime intrigue material.

After a few minutes of letting their horses calm down, Lup and Barry passed affectionate glances at each other and then focused all their attention to their fellow bounty hunter.

“Alright, if we’ve gotten _all that_ out of our systems,” Kravitz said, in an accent not too affected. This was a mission, but not one that required intimidation tactics just yet. He gently tugged his reins to turn his horse toward the center of town. “Let’s head over to the morgue and see if we can get some clues about the man who is failing to die at a consistent time.”

* * *

The Temple of Istus was in beautiful condition, made apparent by the clean white stone walls and hourglass symbols etched into the stained glass windows. The last of the renovations had been completed some months ago. White cactus flowers lined the path that led to the front of the building. Luca, one of the temple leaders, and Mayor Cassidy stood at the doorway, eyeing the trio expectantly as they pull up.

“Howdy,” Cassidy exclaimed, smiling in her half-crazed way. “We was informed that a couple of detective-like folks would be comin’ to investigate the case that’s done shook up this tiny town of ours. Don’t suppose you’d be the folks who’d be doing the investigation’?”

“That we are,” Kravitz said, tipping his hat politely. “Care to point us in the direction of the morgue?”

“If you don’t mind me mentioning it, miss,” said Luca, tilting his head towards Lup. “You look rather similar to another elf I seem to know.”

“If you’re referring to my brother,” Lup said, eyes narrowing playfully. “Then yes, we do share a bit of a resemblance. But let the record show that _I am_ the far better looking twin. And any notions of the otherwise will be met with _heinous_ retribution.” A flicker of fire danced along the brim of her hat.

“Of course,” Luca said wisely.

He and Cassidy led the trio around to the back of the Temple. Behind it lay a cemetery. Further on was a small building, the local mortuary. They walked quietly through the little graveyard, which was neatly kept and looked more like a garden then a final resting place. Lup nudged Kravitz in the arm and grinned.

“Aye, Bones,” She whispered. “Did you have anything to do with any of these dude kicking the bucket?”

“Don’t be crass,” Kravitz hissed back. “These people all died of natural causes.”

“So you didn’t play a hand, but you DO know how they died huh? Sounds like something a goth nerd would say.”

“What can you tell us about the victim,” Barry interjected, to keep them both from blowing their cover.

“Rusty Doads was his name,” Luca said, with a bit of sadness. “From outta town. A good fella. Came out here to trade jerky for diamonds just about once a month.”

“So he was a merchant?” Lup asked, her voice jumping away from the teasing tone it held before.

“Of sorts. He owned a sizable ranch down in Clayridge. Never brought his cattle through, only jerky. But damn, if it wasn’t the best jerky this side of Woven Gulch.”

“Yeah,” Cassidy said. “Shore am gonna miss some of that jalapeno jumpin’ jerky. That’ll wake a son of a gun up first thang in the mornin.”

Cassidy produced a key to open the door to the small building and all five people walked through. They were greeted by the body of a man, laying solemnly on a metal examining table. His clothes were placed neatly on another table nearby. The cold building looked fairly empty, but santitized. A single light bulb hung from the ceiling.

“The body was found a little more than a week ag,” Luca The gun was laying a few feet away. No one had reported any sound of gunfire. The strangest thing was that there was little blood, and no footsteps tracked in the dirt around it.”

“We didn’t think this case was anything beyond run of the mill murder or suicide until we dropped off the body at the coroner’s place and discovered-”

"The body doesn't look decomposed in the slightest," Barry cut off, staring at the figure with wide eyes.

“You said a week?” Kravitz asked, looking genuinely dumbfounded. “There was no preservation done to it since then?”

“Not a whip,” Cassidy said shaking her head. "We already inspected and dispelled any residual magic on the body, there was no arcana that anyone ‘round here could detect."

“Does the man have any family that know about this?” Lup asked.

“Old Dusty has a wife that takes care of the ranch, and a daughter that’s about grown. We informed them of his death right after discovering the body, but no one wanted to proceed with the funeral, what with the body being in the odd state that it is.”

“Not just the body,” Kravitz said under his breath. His gaze traveled from the fresh-looking dead  man to the two townsfolk. “Would you give us a moment to discuss among ourselves? This is definitely ...unique case.

“I’d also like to sample a bit of that Jumping jerky if you still have some left,  Lup added with a wink.

“Well, sure,” Cassidy said excitedly. “I’m sure you city slickers are peckish after your ride out here. We be right back in a sec” She and Luce ushered themselves out of the room, leaving the three bounty hunters to once again look over their target.

After a moment of pensive silence, Lup gestured with her thumb at the languid body on the table. “There’s no way there’s not magic still flowing through this fucker. It’s been a week and there’s no sign of decay.”

“Gentle repose maybe?” Barry offered, circling around the body, studying it carefully without touching it.

“But that’s such a brief spell. It’d worn off by now.”

"Perhaps he casted the spell before the gun fired, and his soul attempted to inhibit something else in the fray of the moment?"

Kravitz glanced around, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. "The soul and the body still existing simultaneously in the material plane doesn’t count as death--at least on a technicality.” He said that last bit with a hint of spite. “But a mortal body without its soul will cease to function after sometime, in which case the user wouldn't be able to re-inhabit it, then death is more or less... _assumed_."

"We're really going into ethical dilemma territory," Barry said,a kidding smile emerging on his face. It fell intp a sheepish smirk. "But I guess that's a bit rich coming from me." Kravitz failed to hide a smile. He and Barry had been bitter rivals for nearly a decade. But here they were, co-workers and friends with all their powers focused toward the sacred balance of life and death. He valued both him and Lup’s company more than anything.

"Ditto, babe," Lup says, affectionately nudging Barry with her shoulder. “So we have a dead-ish dude with a bullet to the chest.”

“And the bullet wound is definitely there,” Barry replied, pointing to the small, clean hole in the man’s chest. He tapped a knuckle on the side of the cold, metal table in thought. His eyes went from there to the pile of clothes on the table. They looked immaculate. Barry’s eyes narrowed. “But no blood stains on the clothes. And I’m going to go out on a limb here and say they haven’t washed the body yet…”

Lup and Kravitz shot glances at each other, slowly following their partner’s train of thought. Barry straightened his glasses.

“Kravitz, I’m going to ask to do something I know you’re going to say no to.”

 _“Absolutely_ not,” Kravitz replied immediately.

“Good, now that we got that out of the way--”

Lup grinned, she could see the gears turning in Barry’s head just from the look he got in his eyes. “What do you have in mind, Babe?” Barry looked from the dead body before him to up at the love of his life.

He shrugged. “Nothing...illegal. Depending on the law, that is.”

“Whatever it is, I forbid it.” Kravitz’s face was already wincing at the thought of what Barry J. Bluejeans, leading mind in Modern Necromancy, was possibly planning. One of Lup’s hands found itself rested firmly on Kravitz shoulder.

“Hey Krav, do you like jerky?” She asked, decidedly not looking into his annoyed eyes. “I think it’s okay. It’s a decent treat for hardpressed travelers like ourselves. The folks around here probably have some pretty good drinks too, maybe. I’ll buy you a round. You want a round? Let’s go get around _real quick.”_ The way her voice pitched an octave higher was very reminiscent of her brother.

Kravitz looked from  Lup to Barry, and there was that telling voice again. The voice that told him that he was going to have a LOT of paperwork that he probably was going to have to file, and even MORE explanations that he was going to have to make to the Raven Queen in the near future.

But if it would get the job done...

Kravitz pointed a figure at Barry. “One round. Thirty minutes TOPS. I do not want to see ANY evidence of this man’s body leaving this building.”

“You think I’d leave a mess? Excuse me, I’m a professional,” Barry said, feigning an innocence that had been disproven many, many times before.

Yeah, this was going to be an interesting mission for sure.


	2. What in Tarnation?

As Lup and Kravitz walked from the Temple of Istus to the Davy Lamp, they had more time to see how much Refuge had improved since Story and Song. The forest behind the Elder’s Manor was rife with new leaves. The square was lively, with wagons and carts, and people shuffled up and down the dirt roads with freshly cut diamonds from the mines. Buildings were freshly painted--still mainly brown, but now with a wider variety of accent colors. There were two old men strumming a gentle tune on a banjo and guitar in front of the bank. Folks were walking in and out of Helpington’s, using diamonds as the usual currency. The large clock tower rang out one loud, rapturous ring, signaling the end of the first afternoon hour.

“I was here before when I was in the umbrastaff,” Lup said, leading Kravitz towards the Davy Lamp saloon. “But that was back when the town was in shambles and all time loopey. I didn’t really get to enjoy a lot of sightseeing, if you get my drift.”

“The worst case of death law abridgement occurred here,” Kravitz replied solemnly, looking around. “Before the Temporal Chalice, there were almost no cases that required my services in the Woven Gulch. And then, all at once, so many people were subjected to death over an over.”

Lup bit her lip. “Yeah, it’s a shame.”

Kravitz caught her gaze and then made a nod over to the clock tower. “But death is all about the natural order of things. And it what happened here was very unnatural. At the end of the day, I am glad to see everyone here play out the rest of their lives like they’re meant to.”

Lup nodded back, “Hell yeah.”

They arrive at the Davy Lamp in little to no time. It also looks to have received a new, brightly-colored paint job. New tables and chairs with floral arrangements decorate the open porch. As Lup and Kravitz walk in, they noticed modern looking lighting fixtures and art hanging on the walls. Waitresses in brightly colored dresses weaved around the various tables to serve drinks and food to town regulars. Instead of a piano in the saloon’s corner, there sat a jukebox.

“This may be Ren’s place,” Lup started. “But I can practically smell my brother’s influence in the decor.” Kravitz chuckled.

“I’m inclined to agree,” He replied.

June, who had been wiping down the bar counter, glanced up as the two walked in. She looked to be in her late teens, wearing a yellow sundress, and an apron that read ‘Davy Lamp’ on the front. She tossed the cloth she was using to wipe of the counter into a nearby sink and leaned forward as Lup and Kravitz pulled up a seat.

“Hey!” said June, addressing the elf woman. “You’re Lup!”

“Hell yeah!” Lup says, plopping down in a seat in front of her. “You're...Junebug! If I’m correct.”

The girl blushes. “Yeah..well, folks don’t much call me that anymore. I’m managing the saloon for Ms. Ren while she’s up in Neverwinter taking care of that fancy school of Mr. Taako’s.”

“Yeah, Ren is a real trooper,” Lup said with a smile. “Have you considered applying to my bro’s school?”

“Oh no, I’m pretty squared away here in Refuge. When I’m not over here, I’m helping inspect the diamond mines for safety protocols.”

“How solicitous of you,” Kravitz said, finally setting in. He was going to do his best to keep his mind off of Barry’s antics for a few minutes.

“Are any other the other irpe here?” June asked. “I’ve only met the first three so far.”

“Barry is here, but he’s busy at the moment. Kravitz--the dour looking gentleman to my right--Is our...co-worker, of sorts.”

“Ms. Ren mentioned something like that. She already has a room set up for you upstairs if you folks get tired. In the meantime, what can I do for you?”

“Well, I promised Kravitz here a drink, if you’d oblige. And any possible information you could give.”

“Of course,” She shoots them both a wink. “And on the house for the saviors of the universe. What would the two of you like?”

“Surprise me!” Lup said.

“Just a lemonade please,” Kravitz said, pointed ignoring the disappointed sneer coming from his partner.

“You’re such a doooooooooooooooooork,” Lup said, letting her words ring out through the entire saloon.

“We’re working?” Kravitz shot back. “Drinking on the job is unprofessional.” Lup opened her mouth to retort, but then opted for a sly smile instead.

“Hey,” she tapped on the countertop. “Ten gold says Barry runs in here in the next two minutes.”

“Lup,” Kravitz said, pulling his brim down low. “You know of ALL people, I don’t bet with you any more.”

Lup threw her head back and laughed. She spun in her seat to face him and replied, “Five gold says you will.”

Kravitz’s brow knit together. Lup leaned back in her seat and let him mull it over. It had become a routine between the three of them to make bets on each other during missions, with Lup almost always the instigator. Sometimes Kravitz managed to turn offers down when it really mattered. Yet Lup always seemed to profit regardless of the outcome, much to Kravitz’s chagrin.

He knew better, but that didn’t mean he would _do_ better.

“Fine,” He said, reaching into a pocket. “Fifteen says he comes in less than a minute. That’s for the five I owe you already, and the ten for the initial call.”

“You’re going to bet a closer time than me?” Lup asked, crossing her arms. “That’s a risky play, my man.”

“That’s what makes them worthwhile,” he replied, slamming the coins on the counter. Lup tossed her own ten coins in the pile and gave Kravitz a pat on the shoulder.

Barely five seconds passed before Barry came bursting through the doorway of the saloon, kicking up a cloud of dust as he entered. June was so startled at the counter that she nearly spilled the other two reapers’ drinks. All the other people in the saloon turned to stare in shock. Barry leaned onto his knees and coughed. Of course, he could’ve just opened up a portal to them, but he was so enthused in the moment that he had ran.

“Well, if you look at that?” Kravitz said, his voice even, but his eyes belaying the most smug gaze Lup had ever seen him hold. She watched in horror as the small pile of gold coins that made up her losses were tossed effortlessly into his pocket. She snapped her attention to Barry.

“Babe! What the fuuuuuuuuuuck!”

* * *

 

As soon as Lup and Kravitz had left the morgue and where a decent distance away, Barry turned his full attention to the dead man splayed out before him.

"I'm just trying to locate the soul, not fully reanimate the body," he whispered to himself, trying to come up with a viable argument against whatever Kravitz would say when he got full wind of this. "He's dead, and he'll stay dead."

Barry cast _Animate Dead_ on the crumpled from. The body did not move for a moment. Barry raised his arm, focusing keenly through a wand of his on making. He wasn’t sure if the spell would even work, if the body wasn’t technically considered dead. But this was worth a shot.

A languid finger twitched, then the whole hand. Barry watched intently as the body of the man slowly shifted its position, pushing itself with its arms to roll over and sit up. The head was slumped forward for a moment. It slowly rose up, and the man opened his eyes, though they remained vacant, unseeing.

“Whm mm himmm?” The face mumbled, a definite voice was coming out, but the mouth didn’t open, the words failing to make past the corpse’s lips.

“Try again,” Barry said gently, taking a step forward. The man slowly moved his lips, as if parsing how talking felt for the first time in a while.

“Whe....Where’s...am I?” the dead man mumbled.

“You’re in Refuge,” Barry replied gently. “In the morgue.”

“N.....no,” the man mumbled. “...Somewhere...else?” His head kind of slumped to the side.

“Else?” Barry asked, not realizing how close he was to the corpse now. Typically a spell like this was easy to maintain, but his senses informed him that whatever was binding this man's soul to the material plain was chaotic and fickle. "Your record says that you’ve never left Refuge. Hell, your death record says your soul is still here now.”

“Now...?” the body stifled out. “Not now...I-I...” Now his arms seemed to give way, and his body seemed to struggle to keep itself sitting upright. Barry placed a hand on the man’s shoulder to try to keep him up, to let the fullness of the spell channel through. His skin was cold, but pristine. But the spell was becoming very, very taxing to maintain. The body’s head turned toward him. “I...I’m not...dead yet....” A look of fear was developing on his strained, empty face. “Standing in same place...but nothing is the same. Coming...when is it?...w-when will i-it? Help.”

With that, the man completely crumpled over. The spell dissipated, no longer having hold over his languid form.

Barry slumped back on his own haunches and wiped a bead of sweat from his brow. He took out a small notepad from his back pocket and jotted all that just happened down. He didn’t feel as though he had gained a lot of information. But after a moment of quiet deliberation, he came to consider one dreadful thing:

Whatever it was that had its effect over this dead man, it hadn’t killed him yet.

* * *

 

“Before you say anything,” Kravitz said, patting Barry on the back. “Let’s go upstairs, where we can talk privately.”

“Yeah, let’s do that,” Barry replied, finally catching his breath. Kravitz, after apologizing to June for the commotion, retrieved the key. The three of them made their way out of the dining area and upstairs to the guest rooms, with Kravitz leading in front, and Lup and Barry following. Barry caught the look of slight annoyance still etched on Lup’s face.

He gave her cheek a soft poke. “Well, don’t you look sour? What’s wrong, Hun?”

Lup let a breath go and held his hand gently in hers. “Nothing’s wrong, Babe,” she said. “The universe just sought to swing luck out of my favor for once.”

“Natural order,” Kravitz called back.

“Fuck you,” Lup said in the same tone. Barry laughed.

“I’ll take a wild guess and say the bet was on me?” he asked. The three of them entered a quaint little bedroom. It looked fairly innocuous, aside from a large tome with a black raven feather laid on top of it. A notebook sent from the astral plane. Kravitz sat down in a chair and started flipping through it.

“Yeah, Love,” Lup replied, shutting the door behind them. “Next time you make an earth-shattering discovery, be a bit more deliberate about it.”

“Oh! Speaking of which--”

Barry made the announcement--that he had talked to the body--to his compatriots in a hurried manner. The moment Kravitz’s eyes flashed red with anger, he realized he had sorta fucked up with his wording.

“Bluejeans, I am going to kill you,” Kravitz said, raising his hands as if preparing to wring the man’s neck. He got up from his seat so quickly his chair toppled over.

“It’s not necromancy if he’s not dead yet!” Barry yelled defensively, scuffling back out the doorway.

“What do you mean he’s not dead?” Lup asked. Her husband and sort of brother-in-law (“ _Dammit, Taako, get on your shit already!”_ ) had been through this routine many many times before. She knew Kravitz wasn’t able to kill Barry, _per se_. But a few decades in the Eternal Stockage was still a punishment he could definitely hang over Barrold’s head if the need ever arose.

Barry quickly summarized the experience he’d had just moments before. The angry light in kravitz’s eyes diminished, but there was still a very strong frown etched across his face.

“The problem with that suggestion,” Kravitz replied, sitting back down. “Is that this man’s death is being recorded at different time periods. That shouldn't be possible.”

Lup made an undaunted face. "I spent twelve years in a sentient umbrella. A time traveling ghost isn't that hard to fathom."

"He’s a real schrodinger's man if I do say so myself," Barry said.

“Something doesn’t add up,” Kravitz said. “We should go back and investigate the body again. Together this time.” He manifested a small pocket dimension to slip the book into. He then summoned his scythe and ripped open a portal to right outside the morgue. The three of them didn’t hesitate to pass through from the hotel room into the brilliant sunlight.

As the portal closed, they all turned their attention to the sound of someone yelling and coming in their direction. A half-elf woman in black clothes stomped her way towards the morgue, coming down the same path the three had walked earlier that day. Luca followed closely behind her, looking rather exasperated.

“You gotta let me see him!” the woman yelled. As she approached it was becoming clear that there were tears streaming down her face. “You can’t be going on holding up his body for longer than a week and not let his own family mourn properly! You can’t!”

“Please!” Luca called. “Just hold on!”

The woman stopped when she noticed the three reapers standing before her. Barry stepped forward and tipped his hat politely. “M’am, if you wouldn’t mind, we’d like a moment of your time?” He asked.

“Who might you all be?” She replied, wiping her eyes with her shirt sleeve.

“We have been charged with rectifying the mysterious circumstances surrounding Mr. Doad’s death.” Kravitz said. “And apprehending all involved parties.”

“We’re here to help,” Lup said, matter-of-fact.

The woman in black put her hands on her hips and gave them all a hard stare. She really didn’t look much older than June. But there was something very severe in her demeanor.

“Well, I’m Pattie Doads,” she replied. “Rusty was my Pa.” She indicated towards a wagon a short distance up the path, near the front gate of the Temple. “If yer looking for who might’ve killed him, you’ll have to come back with me to Clayridge.”


	3. I Got the Horse Right Here

“You’re...you’re saying we’d have to go to a different city?” Barry asked.

“That’s what I said,” Pattie Doads replied, still staring the reapers down. She continued unprompted, “My Pa had a reputation for making the best beef jerky. Our smokehouse and cattle farm centered in Clayridge. He earned a small fortune from it, but it brought us nothin’ but trouble. I got folks on my hide now trying to do to me what’s been done to my Pa, and I need all the folks I can get to settle the score."

The trio of reapers inspected the young half-elf who regarded them so forthrightly. Her long, dark brown hair was pulled into a messy ponytail. Her skin was a red-toned tan, and her hazel eyes were a bit puffy from what were assumed to be tears. She wore a black blouse and breeches, and dusty grey boots. A holster with a small pistol sat firmly on her belt. The way her eyebrows knit together gave off the vibe that she was trying to appear older than she really was.

“How old are you?” Lup asked, tilting her head.

“Almost 20,” Pattie replied.

“She’s a _baby_ ” Lup said to her partners, motioning frantically with her hands at the girl. “We might as well escort her back.”

“I’m not—!” Pattie started, her slightly pointed ears glowing red with embarrassment.

“Where is your mother?” Barry asked, only now remembering that Luca had mentioned the dead man’s wife being involved in the case as well. Pattie awkwardly shuffled her foot, raising a small cloud of dust.

“It’s a long story,” she said. That response garnered a suspicious look from the trio.

“I’ll assume that Clayridge is a bit of a distance from Refuge,” Kravitz said. “ Did you come out here by yourself?”

“It’s a longer story,” she said, her face now starting to redden as well. Okay, now something was really up.

“We’ve got nothing but time,” Lup replied, hoping to cajole a thorough response then and there.  But Pattie just clenched her fists and huffed with annoyance.

“Like I said,” She muttered. “If you’re here to help, the best thing to do is come back with me to Clayridge. I can explain what I know on the way, and point you in what I think my be the right directions.” She looked up at them with a forced determination. “I can assure you that you won’t find much here in Refuge.”

“It sounds like a good a plan as any,” Barry said, sighing. “We can cut back if something happens to clue us in over here.”

Kravitz really didn’t want to leave the body like it was in such a strange state, but he trusted his partner’s judgement, and therefore nodded in agreement.

“Alright then,” Pattie said, spinning on her heel and heading back to the wagon. Lup regarded Luca, standing in the shade of a nearby tree. He had backed out of the conversation after failing to slow the young one down.

“We’ll try not to trouble you much longer after this,” Lup said, then quickly added. “But no promises.” Luca waved a gentle hand.

“Oh, no worries at all. I’ll be here if you need me,” he responded kindly. “May the Lady of Fate lead your party safely and surely to your destination.”

“Rad,” Lup replied, following after Barry and kravitz. “Catch ya later.”

The four of them began nearing the backside of the temple, and were beginning to discuss the intricacies of a plan...when Pattie stopped in her tracks.

The reapers stopped as well, surprised by the girl’s abruptness. Pattie remained forward facing, but one of her arms went up to cover her eyes, and her shoulders began to shake. A few muffled sniffs slipped out. The reapers shot surprised glances at each other. Assumed crying became obvious crying, as Pattie nearly doubled over from the weight of her own tears. Lup took a few cautionary steps towards the girl.

“Hey,” she murmured. From the way Pattie had come blustering down the pathway, Lup could tell that she hadn’t meant to come all this way, only to turn back around without sorting out her personal business. Lup placed a supportive hand very tenderly on the girl’s shoulder. “Not quite ready to go yet?”

Pattie sniffed a couple of times and attempted, rather unsuccessfully, to regain her composure.

“I just….wanted to see him,” she choked out. “My _Pa._ ” Her voice was broken by a few hiccups, and her face burnt red with teenage embarrassment. Lup reached into the pocket of her petticoat and pulled out a handkerchief.

“I see,” Lup said, offering it to the girl. “It’s certainly not fair for any of us to hold him off like this.” Pattie took the small favor and started wiping her eyes. Looking up at Luca, Lup motioned with a jolt of her head back at the morgue. “Would it be too much for her to at least say goodbye to her dad before we take off?”

“Oh! Well, no. I’d say with the three of you here, of course not.” The Temple Leader said. “We just...well, this case is so strange. There’s no real precautionary measures. We didn’t want any mishaps.”

“We’re well equipped to take make those measures,” Kravitz replied. Barry strode up to Pattie. Lup now had one arm snaked around the girl’s shoulder in a comforting embrace.

“Pardon my asking,” Barry started. “But have you gotten a chance to look at the body?” The girl shook her head.

“My Ma did,” Pattie said quietly. “To identify him. I stayed out here and waited. I was thinking the whole time I should have a look at him before the funeral. But then all this weird talk of magic started happening and I got scared I’d never get to see him again, so I came out here...and...well….”

“If you want, I’ll go with you,” Barry said. “We can both have a look and I can explain what we’ve learned so far.” He offered a hand to the young lady. “It’s not as upsetting as you might think. It’ll be okay.” Pattie took in the sympathetic palm of Barry Bluejeans with a softening look and grasped it slowly, her own hand still trembling. Barry walked her down the path, Luca sighing as he quickly caught up and led the two of them into the small, dreary-looking building.

Kravitz and Lup stayed outside to wait for them. Kravitz crossed his arms and bowed his head. “There are some things that you two are far better at than I am,” he said.

“‘Some things’ is a funny way of saying _‘most things,_ ’ Bones,” Lup shot back. Kravitz rolled his eyes.

“I mean comforting,” he admitted. “Rarely do the people I’m called to reap have love ones to miss them when they’re gone. So my practice with consolation is practically...well, nonexistent.”

“Yeah? I’d say give it a hundred years and you’ll catch your stride,” Lup said, patting him on the back. “It’s never an easy skill, but it sure comes in handy.”

“In the meantime, I’m glad I have the two of you to lead by example.”

A part of Lup wanted to mock him for that bit of sincerity. A part of her wanted to play it off as a joke out of friendly embarrassment. But a mature part of her that had developed a great bit since working with Kravitz led her to give him a soft jab in the shoulder with a “Hell yeah, partner.”

The two waited patiently for Barry and Pattie to exit the morgue. When they finally did, Pattie looked a little less frightened, and a little more determined. The trio of reapers tipped their hats to the Temple leaders, then escorted the girl to her covered wagon.

“Mind if I drive?” Barry asked. “It’s a bit of a way from here to Clayridge. You--you’ve probably been through a lot already.”

“Thanks, I don’t mind,” Pattie replied. “It’ll save me a bit of talking breath, for sure. There’s a lot i gotta tell you folks.”

“Alright then.” Barry yoked his horse with the one already hooked the wagon. Lup and Kravitz opted for riding on their own steeds on either side. They took off at a fair pace, heading away from the temple and through the main street of Refuge. Everyone in town stood outside on porches, gawking at the strange traveling party escorting the wagon out of town and into the wide, open land.

“Thank you for riding back out with me,” Pattie said, after about half an hour of travel. She sat under the covered tarp, right behind Barry. “And...to tell the honest truth, I was kind afraid running out here like this all by my lonesome.”

“Is that partly why you were so insistent upon us coming back with you?” Kravitz asked, taking a guess.

Pattie stubbornly sucked in her cheek and didn’t respond. The reapers shot each other knowing looks, and opted to let that particular matter die down. There was something a bit endearing about young people who only knew how ask for help in round-about ways.

“While we’re out here in the open,” Lup said. “Filling us in on your situation would be a big help right about now.”

“Yeah,” Pattie said, a bit forlornly. “We originally came from up north in Galiglade, then we moved further into the Gulch for better grazing land for the cattle. After a few weeks, a couple of folks made a habit of visiting our farm. We thought they were being neighborly at first. But when things started going wrong; we realized they were harassing us.”

“First, it was the knocking down of our fences. Then it was drawing calves away from the herd early in the morning and us having to constantly relocate them. Then one night, three of our cattle went missing. We thought it was wild dogs that got ‘em. But then we found the body of one next to a ravine near the end of our property, with the brand of the marauders emblazoned on its hide. A warning.”

A beam of light blasted just shy of the right wheels of the wagon. All of the horses neighed nervously, shaking their manes with surprise. Everyone craned their heads back to see a group of three or four horseback riders galloping in their direction. They were too far away to attack straight on, but there was definitely a magic user with them, from the look of the large staff they were wielding.

“Fuck!” Pattie yelled, ducking down. “It’s them!”

“What do you mean it’s them?” Barry called, tightening his hold on the reigns. “What them?”

“The marauders that been after me and my folks! They must’ve known I left Clayridge to check on my Pa. Oh shit, they’re gonna take down the wagon.”

Kravitz summoned his scythe, keeping close to the right side.

“I call dibs!” Lup yelled, slowing her steed to a trot. She circled around to the left and faced the band of marauders with clear excitement. She whispered a few words and pointed directly at the rider in front. The flames which churned at the feet of her steed began to grow and crackle.

“What’s she doin?” Pattie asked, eyes wide.

“It’s Aganazzar’s Scorcher,” Barry replied, a warm smile forming on his face. “With a bit of a twist.”

A line of roaring flame emanated from the trail left by Lup’s steed, and surged towards the direction of the closest horse. The rider was able to dodge the attack easily, jumping over the line as if at a rodeo. Lup smiled at this and, after uttering a few more words, spread out her palm. The line of flame split into five--thinner, but still roaring--lines. They whipped and slid across the desert plane, causing all the opposing horses to whinny fearfully and buck to avoid them. The heat was excruciating, especially out in the sun like this. The riders all screamed and tried to hold on for dear life.

One rider in particular, wearing a long, maroon cloak, held the large staff up again and pointed it at the back of the wagon. Their horse leaped over another line of flame as they sent a new blast of light barreling towards the wagon.

Pattie screamed as she saw the beam coming towards her, but it was summarily cut off by a shielding spell. The girl looked back to see Barry awkwardly turned around, his hand outstretched and his gaze pointedly where the beam was going to strike. His other hand was held about as firmly to the reigns of the charging horses as he could manage.

The wagon lurched forward from the force of the colliding magic. Kravitz spun his horse around to the back, and aimed his scythe at the guy with the staff. With a decisive swing, he sent a blast of dark, shadowy magic cutting across the land, and sliding the top of the staff off. The cape-wearing marauder looked momentarily dumbfounded, only to grip to dear life as their horse bucked again to avoid a line of flames.

Lup edged closer to the attackers and guided the streaming bands of fire at any of the marauders that edged too close. But none of them seemed to want to take any more risks after seeing the staff get sliced from such a distance. Eventually a command was yelled out in the chaos. All of the marauders took off, circling their horses far away from the furious spell. Kravitz turned around and caught up to Barry.

“That was so cool!” Pattie yelled, leaning out of the back side of the wagon. Lup tipped her hat proudly and snapped her reigns. Her steed picked back up with the rest of the group.

“You said those guys were following you?” Kravtiz asked, looking back over his shoulder. The riders seemed to arc far away from the wagon, but continued to run in the same general direction. They eventually rode out of view. Pattie crawled from the back of the wagon over to near Barry once more.

“Yeah,” she replied, quieting down. “They’re the ones that killed my Pa. And there’s a lot more of them than that.”

* * *

The rest of the ride was peaceful and uninterrupted. It was dusk by the time a collection of deep, inlaid valleys and mountains come into view. The sun shied behind them, threatening to cloak the open terrain in shadows.

“There is is,” Pattie said. The reapers slowed the horses down to a light trot, each taking in the sight of Clayridge as they approached. It was a much larger city than Refuge, part of it was laid out flat across the land. But a good bit was carved right along the walls of the red canyon ridges. Some of the architecture looked finely constructed and preserved for decades. Others looked terribly old and abandoned. What Refuge had gained in character and comfort over the years, Clayridge seemed like the type of town that had lost just as much.

“It’s a little bit dangerous to just go barging into the city this late in the day,” The Pattie noted. “It’s not the most hospitable place. My farm a little bit east of here. We can drop off the wagon and have a breather, if y’all want.” She pointed to a metal fenced off section of land that peeked away from the city. It was lined with an assortment of desert plants. A few dusk creatures could be seen moving about around it. The fenced area seemed to streak for a pretty good distance.

“Will those attackers follow us to the farm?” Barry asked. The three of them kept a careful eye out.

“Not with you guys out here,” Pattie replied. “That should shake them up. At least for tonight.”

As the wagon slowly approached, the makings of a cattle farm eventually came into view. Thousands of heads of cattle mooed curiously as the wagon party made its way down a dirt road toward the main collection of buildings.

“ _All this_ is your family land?” Lup asked, raising a brow at the fence, which seemed to go on forever. Pattie nodded proudly.

“A portion of it was inherited first, then Pa bought the surrounding parts. When the assaults started happening, we thought it was other farmers, angry that we took up so much space. Pa went out and hired him some hands to come and help guard the herd. But they just kept coming.”

The group pulled up just outside of a metal gate. A large farmhouse and accompanying sheds awaited them on the other side. Pattie hopped out of the wagon easily and unlocked the gate to let them all in.

As she pulled open the gate, she continued her story: “The assaulters started messing with other things, like blocking the water pump late at night, or chopping off the heads of our corn. It was just getting all sorts of crazy and we didn't know what to do about it.”

“Eventually, Pa started looking around for people stronger than just the farm hands. But everyone was too scared to interact with us, knowing that the marauders had greater numbers and strong magic users. Pa tried to keep things pleasant as best he could. He talked about buying more land, and sending me up to Refuge to take on an apprenticeship at the bank and--”

Pattie stopped, pausing to catch the words stuck in her throat. She wasn’t crying, but it was obvious that she was having a difficult time. The reapers paused in their sight seeing to slide off of their horses and wait patiently for her to find her voice. Lup dispelled her steed, while Kravitz led his and the other horses into a nearby stable. Pattie cleared her throat and was about to continue, but then a flavorful scent wafted through the air.

“I...smell something?” Barry said, looking up.

“Other than cows?” Lup asked, waving a hand.

“Oh, that’d be the jerky,” Pattie said quietly, pointing at another building. “Our smoke and storage house is over there.” She took the opportunity in the halted conversation to run into the small wooden building. Kravitz rejoined the other two and glanced around in confusion for the girl. After a moment she came hurrying, back holding a paper towel with a few strips of what was obviously homemade beef jerky. “These are the batches that were set to go out next month. You wanna try some?”

“Yeah, I’ll bite,” Lup said. She took a nibble off the first piece and her eyes lit up.

“Holy shit! Wait a minute. What do you guys season this thing with? This amazing!”

“Good ole Sunburst Peppers!” Pattie says, her face brightening significantly. “It’s a special variety that grow right here in the Gulch. My Pa perfected the breeding of them. Ain't nothing spicer around!”

“You guys wanna try it?” Lup asked, turning to offer a piece to her compatriots. Both Barry and Kravitz noticed the slight dampness of her eyes. Lup had a great flavor palette, but that did not offset her love for extremely spicy food. Not to mention her constitution was much stronger than most. Barry figured that all that heat would give him heart palpitations. Kravitz simply didn’t care all that much for jerky.

“I’m good,” they replied in unison.

Lup and Pattie chuckled at that. Pattie waved for the three of them to follow her around a path to another building. This one was just a simple, white-painted house, lined neatly with a bed of cactus flowers. The sun was mostly set by now, and all the buildings looked ominous, and unfriendly. Pattie walked up to a large cord that hung from the side of the building. The three looked up and realized it was tied to a large bell. Pattie used all her weight to yank on it, and it rang across the land.

“Ma was scared of what might happen if we didn’t take more precautionary measures,” She continued, raising her voice over the sound of the bell. “Pa was off selling jerky in another town and we were out shopping in the city. A strange lady turned up, selling potions and protection spells. Ma and her started talking and she claimed she could teach my ma the right spell if she came to practice at this broke down cottage near a place called the Crooked Canyon. Ma sent me back home, while she followed that woman out there.”

A chorus of moos could be heard approaching, coupled with the rumbling of thousands of hoofed feet. The group looked over the evening horizon to see a large mass of numerous cattle amble towards them.

“The farms hands will take it from here,” Pattie said, motioning lazily at them. “You three follow me inside. I’ll fix some tea.”

“You certainly have a handle on things,” Kravitz said, nodding to her. Pattie smiled bashfully, clearly taken by the handsome reaper’s politeness, but then the smile fell.

“Had to,” She said, opening the front door. “When Ma came back, she was different. Not noticeably at first, but she slowly turned into being downright ornery. She would hit on the cattle if they didn’t move fast enough to her liking. She would yell and spit at me for not getting the yard work done. I used to hate when she’d return cuz she seemed to get meaner everytime she did.”

They filed into the neat little farmhouse, where an empty dining room and open kitchen seemed to wait for them. It was surprisingly small and homely compared to everything else on the large farm. Just about every surface was covered with hand-stitched embroidered cloth. Pattie motioned for all of them to have a seat at the table, then hurried into the kitchen. She quickly filled a kettle of water and set it to boil.

“Pa tried to reason with her but she wouldn’t hear it,” She said. “She would just head to that old cottage and start practicing that strange spell. It started out as once a week trips, then twice a week. Then Ma was gone whole days at a time--”

Pattie took a deep breath and pushed her words forward.

“--One day Pa went out and he didn't come back. And when we got word that he was found dead in Refuge, Ma ran out the house and...and at some point she never came back.” The girl began wringing her hands, her brow wrinkled with pain. The room fell an empty silence.

The kettle on the stove whistled feverishly, startling her--and the trio, to a degree. She spun around and took it off with a gloved hand.

“The woman in the market?” Kravitz said, breaking the tension. “Can you describe her?”

Pattie rubbed her eyes and said, “She looked like an older lady, human. Black hair with streaks of grey. She wore a pretty maroon dress, with a black shawl over her shoulders--though it was hot as sin when we first met her. I don’t know where she came from, but I can direct you to the Crooked Canyon.”

Barry sat his hat on the table. “Can you describe any of the assailants?” He asked. Pattie poured the hot water into a group mugs, already lined with tea bags.

“Well, I've only seen two of them close up, right when we first moved in,” she said. “A half-orc with one gold tusk and a blue-feathered aarakocra. They both look like regular herd hands. Except for the fact that the bandanas they wore was black, with a set of pins on their vests. Odd style it was, but I noticed them right away. They looked like a pair of white antlers with black tips. ”

Kravis lowered his hat and cursed with annoyance. “Fucking Beshaba. I should have known. “

“Who?” Lup and Barry asked in unison.

Kravitz turned to them and said, “I’ll explain later. This may...get a bit messy.”

Pattie winced, and the tray of steaming tea-filled cups in her hands trembled just a bit.

“Don’t worry,” Lup said, giving the girl a wink and a pat on the arm. “Messy is our speciality.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh this took longer to write than I thought. It's also a bit longer than the previous chapters. I'm very excited for what's coming up though. Thanks so much for reading thus far!


	4. Yee (and I cannot stress this enough) Haw

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is the equivalent of me muttering, "Hmm. needs more cowbell."

The trio spent the night waiting out at the Doad’s Ranch, while also taking the time to explain Barry’s findings to Pattie. They carefully left the fact that they were emissaries of death out of the conversation. Pattie looked like she only half understood what was going on anyway. After a certain point, her eyes seemed to glaze over with exhaustion. It took a moment to catch on that the evening was late, and only when she let loose a pretty sizable yawn.

Kravitz rose from the table. “It’s been a long day. Let’s continue talking in the morning.”

“Y’all are free to stay here for the evening,” Pattie offered, rubbing her eyes. She got up slowly and took their empty mugs back into the kitchen. “I’d hate to make you ride all the way back to Refuge this late at night.”’

“Traveling won’t be, uh, an issue,” Barry replied. “We’re all... _magic users_. So we can get around fairly easily.” Lup gave him a thumbs up for the nice save. He gave her a thumbs up back.

“Just being cautious,” Pattie replied. She made her way into the living room and plopped down onto a loveseat. “It’s still dangerous out there. Some folks in Clayridge got real _wicked_ magic.”

“You don’t say?” Lup asked. She got up and grabbed a nearby hand-knit blanket. Pattie looked like she wanted to protest as the elf laid it over her, but then another yawn slipped out.

“Yeah, in town...there’s a brewery where a lot of warlocks and rogues hang out,” Pattie murmured, her eyes fluttering closed. “People avoid that place like the plague. Rumors that a lot of cursed shit happens inside….”

As soon as Pattie dozed off completely, Lup  gave Kravitz a sideways glance and said, “So….let’s say I don’t know who this _Beshaba_ is...care to elaborate?” Barry nodded, looking equally as unaware of the personality.

“Beshaba,” Kravitz replied. “The Lady Doom, goddess of misfortune, bad luck, and accidents. She demands constant worship to keep bad luck at bay, but in the end it’s she herself who bring it.”

Lup’s face scrunched up, “Who the fuck would want to worship her for _that?_ ”

Kravitz shrugged. “Spiteful people. People who delight in the misery of others. Sometimes it is simply because they’ve been hurt and they seek retribution. Her clerics are rumored to be malevolent witches who work to manipulate others to join her coven.”

“There’s no way I _wouldn’t_ have heard of her,” Barry said, mainly to himself. “Not in my studies of Faerune occult activity. Unless she’s _that_ obscure.”

“For such a pervasive malevolent force, she tends to keep a low profile,” Kravitz replied. “Her following is very scattered.”

“Her following should technically be every cult we’ve had a problem with,” said Barry. He waved a hand to open up a small pocket dimension. Reaching in and pulling out a well-worn notebook, he took the opportunity to transcribe a few notes.  “Bad luck is, well, universal.”

“She’s definitely danced on the line of The Raven Queen’s jurisdiction before. But this is the first time she’s crossed it so blatantly.”

Lup sat back down, but not before giving the spot where Barry’ brows knit together a gentle poke. He chuckled and looked up from his notebook, taking hold of her hand affectionately. Lup grinned, relishing his attention. “So...should we gank her flavor, or her cult?” she asked.

“I’d think it’d be a bit rude to barge in on a goddess’s domain and blame her for one mortal incident,” replied Barry, then quickly adding. “Not that that has stopped anyone _we_ would know.”

“I’m down for telling a deity to get their shit together to their face, my dude” Lup said. “Hell, if Beshaba’s the goddess of spite, Taako could probably dethrone her ass in a second.”

“Shit, you’re right,” Barry chuckled.

“My brother’s one spiteful motherfucker, ain’t he Ghost rider?” Lup asked, leaning forward on her elbows, hoping to egg more than a smirk out of the grim reaper.

Kravitz was very good at a lot of things. Fighting, playing music, being handsome. But he was also very bad at a lot of things. One in particular: openly admitting that there were fundamental flaws in Taako. Especially to the few people that understood the elven man best.

“He’s perfect,” he finally replied, evenly. Lup snorted at that.

“Oh, come on, Krav.”

“ _Perfect._ ”

* * *

Pattie’s assessment that their earlier fight was enough to keep the mysterious men at bay for at least a night was deemed accurate. Daybreak hit with Lup and Barry dozing, strewn on a living room couch and nestled into each other’s embraces. Pattie sat curled up in a loveseat, still wrapped up in the blanket. Kravitz stood outside on the porch, having opted to take the latest lookout shift of the squad.

After a few more minutes of blissful silence, Kravitz roused his compatriots--with much grumbling and yawning--to join him on the porch for an assessment meeting.

“So, what’s the game plan, Bones?” Lup mumbled, downing a freshly brewed cup of coffee. Barry looked like he was ready to tip over the porch railing from the way he struggled to wake up. One of the farm hands from across the yard rang the large cow bell, issuing the cattle out into the fields. The loud clanging seemed to jerk the reapers to attention. Kravitz looked across the ranch.

“One of us should check out the town and see if we can locate the whereabouts of Beshaba’s coven,” he replied. “I’m assuming that those assailants may be members. One of us should ride over to the canyon and see if we can find the mysterious woman who cursed Rusty. She more than likely a cleric, or a mage. And one of us should probably stay here.”

“Okay well,” Barry said. “How do we determine who does what?” They all looked at each other. Even thought Kravitz was the de facto leader on their missions--a position he would take to the metaphorical grave--evenly distributing group project assignments was a skill the trio had yet to perfect. “Rock paper scissors?”

“Hmm....yeah,” the others agreed.

 

The resulting match went as follows:

_**Kravitz:** Paper_

_**Barry:** Rock_

_**Lup:** She snapped her fingers and her hand ignited in flame._

 

“FLAME BEATS PAPER!” She yelled.

“YOU KNOW THAT’S NOT HOW THAT WORKS!” Kravitz yelled back.

“No, she’s right though,” Barry said. “Flame beats paper.”

“No, dammit,” Kravitz hand rose to his temples reflexively. “We talked about this.”

“You’re just mad because you choose fucking paper every. Single. Time!” Lup snapped back. “Like a predictable _motherfucker!_ ”

“Yet you never wonder why I always suggest rock paper scissors,” Barry added, shaking his head.

“Okay. Can we just...okay, _okay._ ” Kravitz drew a breath. His frown deepened as his partners drew grins at him in a way that could only be construed as, _we’re fucking with you because we love you._ He hated that Barry and Lup were a one-two punch combo that would side with each other more often than with him. But he knew that that’s what made them an excellent team.

Albeit a team that insisted on raising the blood pressure he was sure he didn’t have...

“Let’s not split up,” Barry said, cutting the intensity in the air. “It’s early in the morning, the town isn’t bustling yet. Let’s take a crack over at the canyon to see if we can get some major clues there first, then split up if need be.”

“You all want some breakfast before you head out?” Pattie asked, knocking on the door frame. Her hair looked a bit disheveled and the blanket was wrapped tightly around her shoulders. Apparently the sound of the cowbell woke her up as well.

“Thanks, but no thanks,” Lup replied, giving her a little wave. “We’re going to the canyon to check that cottage out, then to the city to ask about the peeps that have been wrecking your shit.”

“You can be assured that those people you speak of have bounties on their heads, and we’ll bring them to justice very soon,” Kravitz added. Pattie nodded and breathed a small, uneasy sigh.

“I wish it didn’t take profit to bring men like those down,” she replied, and she looked very small standing in the doorframe. In the house of the family she had lost.

“Bounties of monetary value,” Kravitz said, and the serious expression of the grim reaper was etched across his face. “Pale in comparison to those that people like the ones you just described have incurred.” Pattie seemed to shy under the weight of his severe change in attitude.

“Oh...well, as long as justice is done,” she said.

“Nice one, Skeletor,” Lup said, hiding a smile behind her coffee mug. “Getting real good at that comforting stat.”

If Kravitz weren’t trying to stay professional he would’ve flipped her off. He did the equivalent by waving a hand in her direction. Lup’s mug jerked in her palm and the cup of lukewarm coffee splashed out onto her face and blouse. An annoyed growl unfurled from her lips as she prestidigitated the stain away.

“If it would make you feel safer, one of us can stay and keep you company,” Barry said to Pattie, pointedly ignoring the others. She brightened a little at the reapers' shenanigans.

“No,” the girl replied. “Thank you, but I want justice and I want it quickly.” 

Lup took a break to check out the cows--and plot her revenge. Kravitz went to fetch the horses from the stables, using the opportunity to evade Lup before she could retaliate immediately. Barry was about to follow--when Pattie hesitantly tapped his shoulder.

He turned at the steps and looked up at her. “Yeah?”

“Um,” Pattie said, “If….if you hear anything about my Ma, her name is Pirithin. Piri for short. She’s an elf woman, tall, with really long brown hair. Please...bring her back if you can.”

Barry nodded solemnly. “We’ll do our best.”

* * *

The reaper squad rode a short distance away from the ranch on their respective steads. They waited a few minutes, before summoning their scythes and cutting a portal into a large canyon, far away from Clayridge. Luckily, it wasn’t dark, thanks to the curtains of light pouring through large holes in the ceiling of the cove. The earth was red, and steeped in old magic. The air was hauntingly quiet. Ahead lay a terra cotta cottage, hidden away in the back of the Crooked Canyon.

It was a single story building, with a gray shingled roof and dead hedges strewn about. The front door was swung open, beckoning. The trio dismounted and let themselves through. Inside, a single bachelor-style room with a bed and chest. In the middle of the room is a simple cooking pot over an open flame. Cured meats hung in bundles from the rafters. All the furniture was covered in patches of dust.

All three reapers studied the room silently, their guards up. Barry happened to glanced out one of the windows, when something caught his eye.

“Look at this,” he murmured, motioning with his hands to something outside.

Lup and Kravitz followed him through a creaky backdoor to the innermost part of the cove. There lay a small hill of dirt, on which rested a shabby carved gravestone. The stone was marked in rough, strange symbols. A large hole of poorly dug dirt greeted the three reapers as they approached. It was shallow and obviously rushed, as the shovel used to dig it laid just a few feet away. But the trio’s eyes were on neither the gravestone nor the grave.

They were on the skeletal remains of the woman, sitting propped up within it.

She looked like she had been dead a decent amount of time, the ragged remnants of a dress still hung off her bony frame. Patches of hair clung to her skull. She looked as though she had plopped down into the hole herself to take a rest. Small heaps of dirt sat in her lap, like a child’s forgotten sandcastle.

Barry was about to step closure, to study the stone, when a gruff laugh suddenly emerged from the skeleton. It echoed off the walls of the cove, bouncing back to them in horrid, unnatural fashion. Kravitz summoned his scythe and pointed it at the corpse.

“Show yourself!” he demanded. Lup’s hands ignited immediately. Barry summoned his scythe as well.

The skeleton clenched and unclenched its boney fingers. It grabbed a handful of clay and pressed it sloppily against its face. When the hand slipped away, instead of a dirty skull, there was the face of a beautiful women. She looked at them with blue, unblinking eyes and sat up. As she rose, she threw dust on herself like a burrowing hedgehog. Oddly, her matted hair gained a sleek black color and healthy shine. Her skin reformed on her bones. Her tattered clothes rethreaded into a lovely mauve gown. On her chest was a large pin, featuring two black antlers. When she had fully reformed, she stood beside the tombstone.

“The reapers,” She whispered in a croaky voice. “Come to collect.”

But then she stumbled, heaps of sand pouring off her, and her skin suddenly hung off her bones nauseatingly, her dress developed stains and rips. Some of her hair fell out. Lup and Barry felt their hearts lurch, but they took a step forward. Kravtiz was stock still, frozen with anger. The women leaned against the tombstone to balance, chuckling. She attempted to rearrange her flesh to look somewhat presentable. She resolved to grab another handful of sand and toss it on her head.

The beautiful face reappeared, and grinned a gross, snaggletoothed smile.

“Disgusting, aren't I?” She wheezed. They did not respond. She patted some dust out of her hair and a few strains hung loosely from her fingertips. She chuckled. “You do not have to say it. I can feel it in your gaze. And I know who you are, you work for _Her_.”

“Who are you?” Barry asked. “And how did you end up like this?”

“I was the former Cleric of Misfortune, before a woman of my own tutelage usurped me.” She let the dust on her hand fall away, exposing the skeletal bone beneath. “I wanted to be beautiful like the red desert sand, and the wretch made it so the only way I would be seen as beautiful, was if I was constantly covered in it. When the grains fall off, so does my flesh.”

“You let her do that... _willingly?_ ” Lup asked, incredulous.

“We made an exchange of spells. It is a game between members of the Misfortunate. To see who the strongest magic user is. We must hold true to the other’s wish, but in return we get to decide the drawback.”

“What was it the other woman wished for?” Barry asked.

The woman smiles another ugly, toothless grin. “Hers was a selfless one: She wished that that her husband be able would be able to allude death.”

“A senseless wish,” Kravtiz uttered. “One that goes against the laws of my Queen.”

“T’was a creative one. One that I had such _fun_ fashioning.”

“Have you no regrets?” he asked.

“None,” the old witch crooned. “I quite enjoyed the game. Only a pity that I am cursed to greet such handsome creatures in this ratty state. My Lady is nothing, if not fond of cruelty.”

“You are to be banished to the astral plane for this.”

She spat. “So be it. May the day come when the dead and undead laugh at the Reaper’s face, and dance away from his pursuit!” Her head turned slowly on her boney neck, her eyes narrowed. “But….you two…” She pointed at Barry and Lup, and there was a sudden passionate twinkling in her eyes. Barry gritted his teeth, feeling a shudder go down his spine. Lup winced. “You two work alongside him! How ironic, how awful!” She choked out a laugh. “How delightful!”

“That’s enough,” Kravitz commanded.

“How delightful,” She croaked, flecks of sand falling off her form like waves. Her skin sagged, and her dress fell to threads. The black-antlered pin landed in the dirt, by her grave. She kept laughing. “How delightful!”

Lup cast flame ball at the figure, and the skeletal women’s bones scattered in different directions. Her skull rolled down at Kravitz’s feet. He immediately swung his scythe straight through it, as a last, “Delightful!” passed through its haggard teeth.

The skull shattered and spoke no more. The rest of the bones turned to dust, and blew away in the sharp, canyon wind. Barry sighed and walked over to the grave, picking up the black antlered pin, pocketing it.

“Cult leaders are so dramatic, amiright?” He asked, trying his best to lighten the mood.

Lup smiled at him, but her attention fixated on the slab of stone that overlooked the grave. “A spell that will elude death, huh?” Kravitz took off his hat and dusted off his clothes. ‘

“Sounds like something Rusty’s wife would ask for,” he replied.

Barry followed Lup to the gravestone, bending down to get a better view. His hands traced meticulously over the inscribed symbols.

“If this wish held true, then the one for Rusty might as well,” he said. “This writing is primordial. Nearly perfect binding. None of use may be able to get a hold of that man’s soul at this rate.”

“Probably not one of us,” Lup said, reaching in her pocket for her stone of farspeech. “But...I may know a guy.”

She was about to dial in, but then received an audio message almost immediately:

“Yo, my dudes,” spoke a familiar voice. “You must be in a pretty bad bind for me to have to come all the way out there and save your asses. _Again._ ”


	5. Old Town Road

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I am feeling the blupjeans in this chili's tonight!"

Lup raised an eyebrow. “Taako, are you saying you’re on the way to the Woven Gulch?”

“Hells yeah,” her brother said, over the stone. “Fate mama gave cha’boy a ring. Well it was more of a _divine vision_ than a call, but it pretty much played out like a voice message. Basically, whatever you guys are dealing with, it’s doing something funky within the tapestry of time and shit. So she asked her envoys to step in and figure out what the heck is going on.” Lup put him on speaker.

“Hey, love!” Kravitz said, joining the conversation.

“Are Merle and Magnus with you?” Barry asked.

“Hey babe! And no— _The dunderfucks_ ,” Taako scoffed. “Merle is out with his kids on his Extreme Teen Romcom tour or whatever. Magnus said he was holed up helping BOB members lay track to the new Rockport Unlimited line as some sort of _training exercise_.” He said that last part with particular disdain.

“And you have nothing better to do?” Lup asked, coy. There was an offended sputtering sound on the other end, and for a second the trio assumed that Taako ended the transmission early. But then his voice comes back through with haste.

“I’m coming out of the goodness out of my own heart! I’m a busy elf with a school to run and books to sign and shit. I have a fucking pocket spa I could be chilling out in--”

“--That’s you can bring with you,” Barry noted.

“Which is the point of it being a _pocket_ spa, dear,” Kravitz chimed.

“Irrelevant! But no, I chose to travel to all the way out to bumfuck nowhere because apparently the _supposed_ three most powerful reapers might need a little T-aa-ko assistance.”

Lup rolled her eyes. “Well, we just dusted some fucking undead cleric. We’re on our way to Clayridge to hunt down her old cult.”

“Dope! Don’t get your hands dirty before I get there. I’m taking my time on the Limited line, premium seating.”

“Too good for coach?” she teased.

“ _Pardon you_ , I’m too good in general. Adios!”

“Bye, love you, see you when you get here,” Kravitz said, right before the stone turned off.

Lup pocketed it with a grin at him. “Sap.”

“You _cry_ when Barry says goodbye to you,” he responded. Lup made the same incredulous sputtering noise as her brother, with the added bonus of instinctively slipping her arms around Barry’s shoulders. Barry smiled in his usual, sheepish way and blushed at the thought of Lup getting weepy because of him.

Kravitz tipped back his head and laughed, quite ready to be done playing third wheel to these two, if only for a moment.

* * *

It was close to noon by the time the reapers rode into Clayridge. They entered an older part of the city, where the street was just and unpaved road, and the buildings seemed to blend into the clay. Hawks swooped lazily in the air. A few townspeople took note of the showy-looking strangers on horseback. But not many, since its was a fairly large urban area and magical bullshit tends to happen all the damn time.

“We have to keep a low profile while we’re here,” said Kravitz.

“Right!” Lup and Barry replied enthusiastically. Kravitz frowned, unconvinced.

“Low profile,” he repeated.

Lup rolled her eyes. “Yeah, okay. Got it.” She dispelled her steed with a flourish of her hand. Barry dismounted as well, looking around for a good place to park his horse. Before he could though, Lup hooked her arm in his and gave a wave to Kravitz. “You take a look over near the cliff dwellings.” She said.  “See if there’s a private residence that could double as a hideout. We’ll stay in this area and try to get a bead on any of those rustlers that attacked the Doads Ranch.”

“Sounds good,” Kravitz said. “Send a message if you find something.” He snapped the reins on his black stallion and took off down the old town road. The galloping of his steed sounded so thunderous that the folks on the street actively moved out of the way for him.

“Low profile my ass,” said Barry and Lup, simultaneously. Then they looked at each other and burst out laughing, grateful that neither Taako nor Kravitz was there to catch them in the act of being old and married.

* * *

 

Kravitz slowed down at spot near a rundown looking blacksmithy. Around him were fairly neat-looking homes, with clay walls separating each private dwelling. This place was elevated enough to see the more bubbling parts of town down below. An older gentleman sitting in a rocker chair eyed him from the patio of the building. He had on very worn denim overalls, and a straw hat cocked to one side.

“You’re an interesting sort,” the man gruffed. “Don’t look to be from ‘round here.”

“No, my man,” Kravitz said politely. “Just passing through.” The old man eye him over, then readjusted his position in his rocking chair.

"It’s not very breezy out here. Don’t you get hot wearing all that heavy, black gear?”

“Nope,” Kravitz said, a smile worming its way onto his face. “I have my ways of keeping cool.”

“Fair enough,” the man said. He stuck a toothpick in his mouth. “What’s your occupation mister?”

“Bounty hunter.”

“Oh?” A look of intrigue now flashed on the old man’s face. “I’d be careful round here is I was you. We’ve been having a bit of ruffian problem. Well, aside from the _usual_ ruffians that is. From the look of your duds, I thought you were one of em.”

“Well, looks are often deceiving.” Kravitz replied. He dismounted and walked over to the man. “Could you tell me more about these... problematic people you’re referring to?”

The man leaned forward in his chair. “Yeah. Showed up several weeks ago. They caused a ruckus like nothing, then started yelling things like, _‘Doom will fall all those who do not heed its gravity’_ or some shit like that. Disturbing the peace. Couldn’t quite tell if they was sleazy salesmen or cattle rustlers, but no one likes them much either way.  They come about once a week now and do the same ole thing.”

“If I were interested in engaging with this group--cordially, mind you--where and when are they likely to...convene?”

The man pointed his toothpick over at a large red building down in a valley. It stood out from all the surrounding, looking much more modern and not built into the ridge.

“That there’s a brewery. Used to be a popular place for townsfolk to spend evenings. Then some of them rough boys came and took it over.” He shot Kravitz a sideways glance. “They’re a big gang if I ever did see one. You thinking on taking all of them by yourself?”

“I have help,” Kravitz replied, pausing only briefly. “But I wouldn’t say that I haven’t taken on organizations of this size before.”

“Not your first rodeo, aye?” The man chuckled.

“Nope. And I’m fairly certain it won’t be my last.”

* * *

 

“Babe, look,” Lup whispered, nodding across the road.

She and Barry stood in the middle of a busy intersection, in the heart of Clayridge. Lup had cast a glamour on herself to look a bit more inconspicuous. Her illusory garb was made up of a peachy dress with sheer, loose sleeves and a long skirt that rippled daintily in the wind. A prairie bonnet covered a good bit of her face. Being one of the seven birds made it a bit more difficult to hide out in open public. However, Barry didn’t really need much of a disguise. He naturally gave off the aura that he was just an average fella. Such a skill had its benefits.

Barry’s gaze followed to where Lup had indicated. There, an elf woman stood in front of a building her back towards them. Her long, dark hair was knotted into many small braids, which hung haphazardly over her shoulders. She wore a long, maroon gown, painfully similar to the one worn by the former Cleric of Beshaba.

As she turned around, in her arms was a small, brown paper-wrapped parcel. But her face was most intriguing, as both Lup Barry were struck with the obvious realization that she was Pattie’s mother.

“You talk to her,” Lup said. “I’ll go find a vantage point and trail her if she tries to sneak off.”

“Good deal,” Barry said. They separated, and Barry crossed the street quickly. The elf woman was just beginning to walk away from the shop when he called out to her. “Piri? Pirithin Doads?”

She turned and looked to him. Her face looked neutral, unkind. “Who are you?”

Barry instinctively ran a nervous hand through his hair. “I, uh, my name is Barry Bluejeans, and I was sent to deliver a message to you from Refuge. Your husband’s body is...ready for burial. That is--You and your family are allowed to proceed with a funeral.”

Pirithin’s eyes narrowed. “For burial?”

“Yes,” He said. Something about her mannerisms told him not to belay anymore information. There was a rigidness in the way she stood, as if trying to clamp down on something that was trying to escape out of her.

“Thank you--” she said, briefly glancing at his denim trousers. “--Mr. Bluejeans. I will make the necessary arrangements.” She turned around and started to walk away. Barry didn’t know what she was planning to do, but he knew it would’ve been wiser to let her think his intentions were innocuous. He knew this, and yet--

He took a step and called out. “Also your daughter--”

Pirithin whipped around, her long braids fanning out around her shoulders. Her neutral, dark eyes suddenly became icy and piercing.

 _Why are elves so fucking frightening when they’re mad,_ Barry wondered. Pirithin didn’t move to close the gap that had formed between them. She called out in a strained voice, “What about my daughter? Did you encounter her?”

“Yeah,” Barry said, raising his hands defensively. “She sent a message to the temple and asked me to tell you--on my way here--that she, uh, wants you to return home.”

The elf woman stared at Barry for a tense second, then spun back around and hurried away without another word.

Barry sighed as he watched her go, not sure if he just royally fucked up the situation. But he knew that Lup was somewhere, following Pirithin closely, and he trusted her whole-heartedly.

* * *

 

Lup walked soundlessly through back alleys, following Pirithin like a shadow. She was rewarded for her close tailing when she watched the woman dip into the back of a large red building in what looked to be the arcane quarter of town. A group of people were standing in front of the door. Curiously enough, they all tipped their heads to the woman as she walked inside. As soon as the door closed, they all went back to conversing with each other.

Lup checked to make sure her glamour was still intact, then strode confidently towards them. “Excuse me, folks!” she called.

The group regarded her with a look of surprise. They were an assortment of different races, five in total. The big and gruff sort. A bunch of rowdy boys.  She tilted her head smiled brightly, noting the matching pins and black bandanas on all other their chests.

“I’m new in town and I’m looking for a pretty good place to hang. Fun atmosphere, good drinks, you know the deal? Figured I should ask around.”

“You’re in luck madame,” said a blue-feathered Aarakocra. They enthusiastically gestured at the building. “This here place is Redlock Brewery. It’s got two floors and a large basement area. Plenty of space to have some fun.”

“Hells yeah,” Lup said, playfully running her hand through a lock of her hair. “May I come in?”

“It’s not open right now,” Another person replied, this one a dragonborn with gold bands around his horns. He side stepped in front of the door. “The poker tables don’t open up till ‘round seven. You’ll have to come back later this evening.”

“Poker you say?” Lup said, and this time she was genuinely excited. “Well then, you will _definitely_ see me here tonight.” She slowly turned on her heel. “I’ve got a pretty good luck streak if I don’t say so myself.”

“All luck is the same,” said the group, suddenly in a strange unison. “It is equal and fair. It is fickle and unfeeling. The good...and bad.” Their eyes seemed to glaze over with a strange fog, looking directly at her, but also _through_ her. Their hands rose, as if to reach out and grab her. “The fortunate and forlorn.”

Lup took a step back, disconcerted as all hell.

“Yeah. Okay. Well, later fellas!” She waved a goodbye. The group watched her with silence as she briskly hurried toward a main street and summarily noped the fuck out. They did not follow.

* * *

Barry turned and looked up at the building that Pirithin had exited when he had first spotted her. It looked like a small tinker shop, with a yellow tiled roof and large sign that read: The Monkey’s Pawn. But in the large open windows stood human side automatons of fantastical designs.

Barry walked up the steps and entered, and a wind chime of various gears rang in his arrival. Inside was roughly hewn wooden furniture and antique cabinets, the latter of which were filled with oddities. A spiffy, middle aged halfling man sat on a tall stool behind the store counter. He glanced up a Barry from polishing an item in his hands and spun around to better greet his guest.

“Hello! Welcome! I’m Shawn Spiffly, how may I help you?”

Barry tipped his hat to him. “Sir, the lady that just ran out of here--I spoke to her briefly. She’s...a friend of mine. Could you tell me more about the item she happened to buy?”

“Oh! Are you a fan of mechanical specimens as well?” The shopkeeper asked.

“Uh, let’s say I were,” Barry replied. “I’m...looking to acquire something similar?”

“Well, I’m not one to blab about the purchasings of my customers--” Mr. Spiffly said, in a manner that inferred that he definitely would blab. “But for appreciator like myself, I’ll tell you  that that gentlewoman just acquired _The Seer’s Spectacles_. They’re a powerful item, allowing the wearer to see the course of multiple timelines at once.”

“Really?” Barry asked, thinking back on his theory about Rusty. Now this was _definitely_ something. “But wouldn’t infinite timelines be...I dunno...a little confusing?”

Spiffly tapped the side of his own bifocals. “There’s a dial on both sides of the lens, to twist ‘em to focus on fewer and fewer timelines till you find the right one. It’s a little tricky to handle, that’s why most folks don’t care for the item all that much.” He paused in his polishing. “That, and sometimes there are timelines with outcomes that most folks don’t want to see.”

Barry nodded solemnly. “How much would a thing like that cost?”

“I’m afraid I cannot disclose the transactions I have between my loyal customers and I,” he said in a voice that made it very clear that he probably would tell, with the right goading. Barry took another glance around the shop. Every item on display was clearly labeled and well polished. Pristine in their craftsmanship.

“Do you make all these gadgets yourself?” Barry asked.

“They are patented appliances,” The storekeeper said, a bit miffed. “But yes, I do. Well, most of them. A lot of folks pawn their stuff here. We take in some and repurposed them for highly specialized needs. If you are looking for something adjacent to the spectacles--”

He reached under the counter and pulled out a small, gold thing that looked like a pistol. But instead of a muzzle at the end of the barrel, there was instead a clear lens.

“I call this bad boy the _Snapshot_ ,” he said, puffing up with just a little bit of pride. “You aim it at a point of your choosing, and time stops for five minutes. You can see after images of your present timeline laid out like a cinematic film reel.”

Barry inspected the item in his own hands, fascinated by its design. At the rate this case was going, he figured it would probably be best to attain whatever firepower the trio could use. Being a reaper had a great deal of perks. Specifically the residual coin that could be collected after hunting a bounty.

“How does 3000 gold sound?” he asked, placing it back on the counter. Spiffly shook his head.

“You ought to make a better deal than that, my good man. It’s currently being eyed by a half-orc gentlemen, one of particular stature here in Clayridge. ”

Barry’s head shot up. “You don’t say?”

“Yep. Hard to miss fella, new owner of the Redlock Brewery. Had the black bandana and pin and everything.”

“Hmm,” Barry said. “I was afraid you’d say something like that.”

* * *

 

Kravitz rode down the main street of Clayridge toward the brewery. It was midday and the streets were filled with folks of all sorts going about their business. They looked like they were all doing well enough, but there was something off too. Merchants were constantly looking over their shoulders. Parents held on tightly to their children. Groups would be talking, but then come to abrupt and broken pauses. This was a town in fear of _something_.

Kravitz’s presence didn’t help all that much. He could feel the hundreds of eyes shoot his way as he tried to pass through traffic. His all black clothes and black horse aesthetic made him stand out. Right when he decided to just cut his way a rift to the building, a shot of light struck the side of his horse, spooking it.

“What the fuck!” He yelled, tightening the reins and looking up. People on the street scattered immediately, crying out as they ducked into ridge-side buildings. Carts swerved onto other roads. Ahead was the magic user, the one that had chased the wagon down when they were escorting Pattie home. Kravitz barely got his horse under control enough to get a good look at this person.

They were an air genasi warlock, with a new staff in their hands. There was the familiar maroon cape about their shoulders, which whipped around furiously. Behind them were two wizards, both wielding crooked wands. From the side streets came four more assailants, all holding swords and ready to join the attack.

Kravitz slipped off his horse and summoned his scythe. He immediately cut open a portal to get right next to the sorcerer. But as soon as he stepped through, the genasi levitated out of the way, and spun around. They uttered a few words, and the dust of the open road swirled up and around Kravitz in the open square. The six on the ground attempted to close in on him, weapons and wands drawn.

The reaper found the whole scenario kind of funny. He stood in the center of the wind, where he was least affected. And the marauders were all closed off on the outside, having trouble seeing him through the dust. There were a lot of flaws to this attack to say the least. Even the marauders were starting to key in on it, having slowing their approach.

He was about to cut open another portal, when a blast of neon blue lightning shot through the wind and knocked the sorcerer out of the sky. The tornado immediately stopped and the dust billowed out in a red cloud. Two more magic missiles fired off in quick succession. The last of the remaining gang looked up with shock. Kravitz turned around to see the added fighter to the fray. The cloud of dust dissipated slowly, and perched on Garyl the binicorn, newly constructed umbrastaff in hand--was Taako.

The elf adjusted his own cowboy hat and leaned forward with a smug grin.

“Howdy, yeehaw, and a yippee ki yay motherfuckers!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the second time I have teased some Taako without providing the full, multidimensional experience and I apologize for that. I had to cut this bad boy of a chapter in half so I promise there will be more of him in the following. Please tell me what you think of this one, as feedback is always a major help. Thanks!


	6. Ya Darn Tootin'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which barry tries to do a science but his family won't let him.

Taako cast Banishment on the Sorcerer, and the poor genasi found themselves soundly in the plane of earth, which was completely opposite their elemental inclinations. How rude. Taako meanwhile, completely ignored the other attackers at set his eyes on the reaper. The band of assailants stood in bewilderment from the second the wind had stopped. Because Taako, from tv, had not only _joined_ their fight, but was also apparently aligned with this man that they had been sent in to kill.

“I had it,” Kravitz said, dusting himself off. There was something that could’ve been construed as annoyance in the way he walked up to the elf on the binocorn. But that was betrayed by the playful grin on his face. He felt a bit of concern that he wasn’t getting enough done for the mission as he should. But his boyfriend had come all this way to help, the least he could do was greet him.

“My goof, babe,” Taako said, leaning forward on Garyl so that he had some degree of level eye contact with Kravitz. He wore a lilac stetson hat decorated with silver stars, with lilac boots to compliment it. He also wore a white fringed top and a pair of teal jodhpurs. He matched Kravitz’s smile with a grin of his own. “Didn’t mean to mess up the whole, Lone Ranger vibe you had going on.”

Kravitz chuckled. He raised a hand and gave Garyl a scratch between the ears. The binicorn hummed with approval. “I do appreciate you coming out here. And we could quite possibly use your insight.”

Taako quirked an eyebrow. “You don’t say?” The attackers started shuffling around uneasily. They all looked pretty itchy to get back to what they were doing. The attacking, that is.

“Barry and Lup are out scouting,” Kravitz said. “I’ll let them know you’re here.”

Taako waved his hand as if to swat the idea away. “Lulu and Barold will hit us up when they find something worth having a conversation about,” he replied. He flicked the brim of his hat to the side and put a hand to his hip. Effortlessly cool. “In the meantime, any chill places round here that don’t have bardic banjo players for mascots?”

Kravitz laughed and said, “I’m sure we’ll find something.” He leaned forward and met Taako halfway with a kiss.

“Hey! We’re in the middle of a fight here!” One of the attackers yelled.

Taako didn’t let the kiss break as he nonchalantly raised the umbrastaff and fired another missile, knocking the man three blocks down the street.

* * *

Lup waited patiently on the rooftop overlooking the street, letting her legs swing lazily over the side. She felt like she hadn’t seen enough of Pirithin in her initial tailing, and she was damn sure that _whatever_ was going on with those guards was worth delving in to further.

It took about an hour of her time. Not an exhausting wait, but a boring enough one. She was about to call in when she witnessed Pirithin exiting.

The woman came out storming angry. She was no longer carrying the package in her hands, and her hair looked messy and tangled compared to how it had been before. Her sleeves were rolled up, and what looked like a slight bruise was visible on her arm, as if someone had tried to roughly drag her along. It was clear in the furious way she marched through the back alley that something might’ve gone awry inside. The guards around the door were silent as they watched her go, but their stares were intense and unsettling. Lup watched from her vantage point as Pirithin waved down a horse and buggy, then climbed in and rode swiftly out of that district.

Lup blinked from the roof to the street and summoned Caarl. The elemental steed manifested and the two kept a quick pace a safe distance behind the buggy. After a short ride, Lup could see the carriage make it’s way out of the main thoroughfare of Clayridge and back towards were the Doad’s ranch lay.

She plucked a raven feather from the brim of her hat. It glowed with white light, then cleared as the image of Barry’s face came into view.

“Hey babe,” She said, smiling as soon as she had his attention. He was on his horse, heading somewhere around town.

“Hey hun,” Barry replied. “Did you find out anything?”

“Yeah, Pirithin went into this big building and dropped off that package. From what I can tell, she’s headed back to the ranch.”

“Huh,” Barry said, with look on his face that said he was fact-checking something in his head. “Maybe she is going to see her daughter after all?”

“Maybe,” Lup said, a bit uneasy. “But she looked pretty intense when she took off. I’ll call Pattie in a sec to make sure she’s alright. What about you? What do you got for me?”

Barry pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket to wipe a bead of sweat off his brow. “You say she dropped that package off?” He asked,

“Uh huh.”

“Well, uh, from what I could get from the store owner, the item she bought allows the user to see multiple timelines like a reel, and narrow to one in particular.”

“Shit, are you serious?” Luca asked. She and Barry had lived lifetimes in multiple worlds, but this was something new. Something simultaneous...and utterly broken. “Okay so back on that theory, that Rusty wasn’t dead, but he’s been dead for like a week--”

“Both could be true,” Barry said. “A soul...trapped in a loop…No, more of an entanglement...” Lup could see through the image of Barry’s face that his eyes were darting around, like he was trying to chart something in his mind.

“Babe,” Lup said, snapping her fingers. That quickly got his attention. He looked back at her expectantly. She smiled. “I love that beautiful mind of yours. I’ll call Bones and meet up with both of you. This shit’s getting weird.”

* * *

Lup called in Kravitz about a half hour into Taako’s arrival. The four of them managed to find each other quickly (thanks to some conspicuously cut portals).

Upon Taako’s insistence that they take a quick iced tea break, the trio begrudgingly found a diner just a block down the street from the Redlock Brewery. It was located in a cozy brick building, with a second floor view of the street below. They all sat at am outdoor table, decorated with lace doilies and a vase of bright white and blue flowers.

As the waiter placed their drinks neatly on the table, Taako kicked up his feet on the seat of an empty chair. “So...how the reaping going?” He asked lightly.

“Taako, was this a way to trick us into doing double date night?” asked Kravitz, raising an eyebrow.

“As if,” the elf scoffed. “It’s not like I’d keep up with the scheduling for these things.” He took a sip of his tea, and pointedly ignored the looks the three others gave him. As if he definitely _wasn't_ the one who had been planning the double date nights consistently since Story and Song.

Lup leaned over onto Barry and thought for a moment. “Double date night was supposed to be yesterday, wasn’t it?” She asked.

“Like I said,” Taako hummed. “Not important.”

“Sorry love,” Kravitz said, hooking his arm around Taako’s shoulder and giving the elf’s cheek a quick kiss. Lup makes a silent gagging face. “This case is weird and is taking much longer than we suspected.”

“Weird how?” Taako asked. “Like facing a band of ghost pirates on open sea wasn’t weird enough?”

“Classic move with the Kraken, Ko,” Lup said holding up a fist.

“That’s how we do,” Taako replied, giving it a solid bump.

* * *

Between tea and a few butter biscuits, Lup and Barry caught their compatriots up on the last couple of hours. Taako leaned forward in his seat, expressing at least a mite of interest in the matter. (“Even though it’s now your case too, dipshit,” Lup had pointed out. He stuck his tongue out at her.)

“Okay,” Taako said. “From what you’re telling me, this cult...The Malignant--”

“Misfortunate,” said Kravitz.

“Semantics. They harassed the Doads ranch until momma Doads sought out help for protection.”

“Natch,” Lup said.

“She wizard warred with someone, who turned out to be that cleric you guys reaped literally this morning. Also a Misfortunate. But she had held up her end of the bargain.”

“Yes, but even with that spell,” Barry said. “Rusty was still killed under mysterious circumstances.”

“It’s only mysterious if you refuse to let yourself say the cult did it. But _you_ all knew that.”

Kravitz smiled softly. “You’re hanging around Angus McDonald too much.”

“I know, it’s infectious.” Taako cleared his throat, “An infection.”

“Go on,” Lup said, having the grace to not egg him on this one.

Taako plows through. “Time shit happens. Her husband’s dead and the cult are still fucking things up. You said she bought an item?”

“The seer’s spectacle’s. Bought, but didn’t keep,” Lup noted. “Or at least, currently doesn’t have.”

“How did she afford those though?” Barry asked, suddenly thinking back. “The snapshot was pricey as hell, and that was just a complimentary item.”

“I mean, she was married to a wealthy ranch owner. I’m sure she could afford--” Lup stopped. “Shit. The Ranch. The fucking _deed._ ” She and Barry faced palmed at the same time. Taako giggled. But he had somehow, through the course of their conversation, moved from his own chair to Kravitz’s lap. So there really was no high ground in this situation.

“If that shopkeeper has the deed,” Kravitz said. “The brewery owner might go in and get it himself.”

“He doesn’t have to get something he _already owns,_ ” Lup mused. Everyone caught onto this last bit with particular interest. “What are the chances that a wealthy business owner--a cultist of Misfortune on that note--wouldn’t use whatever means at his disposal to acquire the most sizable ranch in the choicest part of the Woven Gulch? What are the chances that he might be the owner of that pawnshop?”

“We could call up Pattie,” Barry suggested. “See if she knows enough about him to confirm it.”

Kravitz and Taako agreed to this as well. They all felt like they were making some sort of headway.

“Hey, Pattie?” Barry asked, having pulled out his own stone.

“Yeah?” said the half-elf woman on the other end. She sounded to be in better sorts then when they last saw her.

“This is Barry, one of the reap--uhm, _bounty hunters_ that was at your place yesterday. We’ve picked up on what we think might be pertinent information. Does the name Redlock sound familiar to you?”

“Oh,” She sounded a bit taken aback. “Like the Brewery? Yeah my Pa used to go there a lot to sell shipments of his jerky. Stopped going after someone new took it over. Don’t know _that_ fella’s name if you’re askin’. But from like--usual town talk--I think he had bought up a couple of shops and saloons around the ridge.”

“Hey,” Lup chimed in. “Hate to say it, but we think that brewery owner may be one of the people involved with the attacks on your ranch.”

There is a pause. Pattie says, “Hold on.” Then what sounds like a weak attempt to muffle the stone, followed by Pattie yelling distantly, “That _MOTHERFUCKER._ ”

Taako grinned, “I like her.”

“She’s a peach,” Lup replied.

“I apologize,” Pattie says, voice coming back clear as day. “Please continue.”

“Pattie?” Kravitz asked. “You have an account of your family’s business records, correct?”

“Yeah,” She replied. “I was actually about to sort through ‘em so I can get my Pa’s affairs in order proper--” There was another pause. “Ya know, gotta keep the show going.”

“Of course,” he replied, voice assuring. “This may only be marginally important, but could you look around for the property deed? Let us know if it’s there and keep it as secure as possible.”

“Absolutely,” Pattie said, with gusto. “Those sonsabitches will get trampled by my cows before I let them get their hands on it.”

“Thank you,” Barry said. Time to bring in the less appealing point of discussion. “Uh, also, we ran into your mother while were here in town and--”

“What? Did you? Is she okay?” The spike of concern in her voice made both Lup and Barry wince. Kravitz and Taako eyed them with a degree of curiosity. Lup straightened her brow and said, “I think she’s on her way to you now, pumpkin. Are you at home?”

“Yeah,” Pattie said, then her voice sounded small. “Did she seem like herself?”

“I’m afraid you’d know that better then any of us,” Lup replied, then added. “But if you feel the need to, just call us up and we’ll hightail over there, okay?”

“Okay! Thanks so much for ya’ll’s help! I promise to have a nice big pack of jerky when you get back!”

“You three took a field trip to a jerky farm?” Taako asked, incredulous. “Aren’t you supposed to be working?”

There is a dampening pause on the stone of farspeech, but then Pattie’s voice comes back with an excitable, “Is that _Taako?_ Are you guys hanging out with Taako, from--”

Lup shuts the stone off reflexively, but that can’t smother the painfully smug energy seeping off of her brother.

* * *

Kravitz summoned his book of records on the table before them. He hadn’t looked at Rusty’s record since the start of the trio’s mission. But there was the page, pristine. The death record was currently set at two months and four weeks prior. Then, after a split second, it changed to the week after their initial arrival to Clayridge. Kravitz looked over at Taako.

“Have you dealt with anything like this before in your, uh, run-in with time shenanigans?”

“Nope. Sorry, babe,” Taako said leaning over to glance at the book. “Can’t say that I have.”

They were all quiet for a moment, assuming they had all reached another impasse.

"Is there a pattern to the changes?" Taako asked.

“A pattern?” Kravitz replied. “In the dates of death?”

Taako smirked. "Dates of Death sound like a late Thursday night romcom. But, no--what I'm getting at is what if it's not the recorded dates that are significant, but _when_ they change?"

The trio look at him silently, processing in their own ways what he has said. Barry nearly sprung from his seat, also nearly knocking over the glasses and flower centerpiece.

“I need spreadsheets!” he exclaims, without giving much other context.

“Okay but are we talking by like, _time_ of difference or by _degree_ of difference?” Lup said, with her own flavor of analytical modus operandi.

Kravitz opened the book again. “Is there a record of the previous dates?” he asked aloud. The book flipped back a couple of pages on its own. He ran his hand down a line of information .

“Hachi machi, you guys went from nerd demo to nerd premium real quick,” Taako notes, sipping his tea and leaning back in his seat. He lowers the brim of his hat over his eyes. “I think _I’ve_ contributed enough for one day. Wake me when you make a breakthrough.”

“You can rag on us all you want this time,” Lup said, retrieving a watch and a notepad. "But this case just got interesting.”

* * *

The squad spent the next hour charting the previous times and degrees of Rusty’s death record. Taako kept them mildly entertained with a recount of Tres Horny Boy’s adventures in Lucas Miller’s training simulator aka, “Nerd Lord’s Shitty Fuck Dungeon.” Barry carefully drew lines from point to point, ignoring certain outliers. After a bit, a pattern had definitely come into view. After a slightly longer bit, a breathy “ _Oh shit_ ,” escaped his lips. Lup didn’t quite know what he meant, but she could tell enough from his expression to know that whatever was going on was either hella rad or hella bad. In rare cases, sometimes both.

“What’d you find out, Babe?” She asked, leaning over his shoulder. On the parchment he had laid out before him was a red line cutting straight through the paper. Other lines on either side of it were scrawled in black ink. The majority of them seemed to arch towards a particular point on the red line.

“Okay, so say this red one is our current timeline--” Barry explained.

The other two reapers nodd. Taako shrugged.

“--If what I think is correct--and, if it is, these findings are going to have major ramifications on what time even _means_ in this universe--”

“Small picture, babe,” Lup nudged.

“Right. The death points--”

Taako chimed, “If Maggie were here, he would’ve said, ‘dead spread.’”

“Thank you, Taako,” Barry said. “--They all concave to the main line, I think because even with a spell strong enough to do...this,” He gestured with his hands at the display. “The context in which the soul is expelled from the body is going to permeate across the vast majority of--”

“You’re losing me Barry,” Kravitz said plainly. Barry sighed and placed a finger on the red line, where most of the curves seemed to touch.

“If we’re hitting this ‘timespace’ more often than the others, then it’s the most accurate record. If my earliest assumption holds water--which, at this point, I guess it does--Rusty Doads is gonna _die_ die tomorrow afternoon.”

“Oh shit,” the other three said. Finally, synthesis.


	7. The Good, the Bad, and the Dead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aka "You, Me, and the Body Makes Three!"

“Alright then,” Taako said, seemingly stretching from boredom for the fourth or fifth time. “Who wants to stay here in Clayridge and deal with the cult and who wants to go back to Refuge? In order to, I don’t know, keep tabs on Rusty’s dustyass corpse or whatever.”

“I call dibs on the cult!” Lup said.

Kravitz sighed. “Lup, you can’t call dibs on everyth--”

“Nuh uh, friendo!” She said, cutting him off. “Line is drawn, I called _dibs._ End of story. That’s how that works.”

“That’s how it works,” Taako chimed.

“That _is_ how it works,” Barry said, straightening up.

Kravitz really did not like relinquishing control over the situation, but he hated being the odd one out even more.

“We’re a team. _We’ll_ take down the cult,” He said, then thoughtfully added: “ _Without_ razing the building to the ground. It’s in a heavily populated area, and we don’t want to attract unnecessary attention.”

Lup’s shoulders slumped a bit. “Or, consider…. _we could?_ ”

“Define unnecessary attention,” Taako said.

Barry turned to Kravitz. “Would you mind if I went back to the morgue? There’s some more investigating I want to do.”

“Is this for another...unmentionable experiment?” the reaper asked, having failed to wrangle the twins into any sort of rationale.

Barry pinched the bridge of his nose. “Hey, do you ever...roll your eyes so hard, your whole head has to follow or else they’ll pop out of your skull?”

Kravitz’s brow lowered. “Oddly specific, but yeah.”

“Yeah? Well, lucky for you, my shoulders are too damn sore to let me do that right now.” Behind them, Taako sputtered, and Lup tried her damndest to clam up the well of laughter that was primed and ready to spill out of her.

Kravitz was learning up pick up on a lot of Barry Bluejeans’s mannerisms. Even with the occasional snark, the man wasn’t very difficult to read.

“You want to write a book about this?” he posited.

“I want to write a book about this,” Barry agreed.

“We can...add it to the records in the Astral Plane...with, certain stipulations of course,” Kravitz said, meeting his compatriot halfway. Barry seemed to accept this with a lopsided smile. “Stay over night and let us know if anything happens before tomorrow afternoon.”

Taako sighed. “Considering I’m here to sort out the timey-wimey shit, I think I may have to hitch a ride with Barold for this one. Since I’m--ya know-- the current working expert and all.”

“Aw,” Lup said, with disappointment. “You don't want to come help me and Ghost rider bust a cowboy cult?”

“Actually, Taako,” Baary said, and his change of tone grabbed the other three’s attention. “There’s something I could really use that you could expressly get.”

“Oh?” the elf asked, feigning intrigue.

“Yeah, it’s either a deal...or a steal. If you get what I mean, bud?”

Taako leaned on his umbra staff with just a bit of bravo. He said, “Barold, my man, lest you’ve forgotten, I’m motherfuckin’ Taako from TV. If I want something, I’m sure as hell gonna get it.”

* * *

After a few minutes of delegating missions, the Reapers and Company® readied themselves. Barry gave Lup a kiss, then carved a portal back into Refuge, bring his horse along with him. The others also took to the main road to summon their horses.

“Hey, that girl you called earlier?” Taako asked his sister. “Did she ever call back?”

Lup bulked with one foot in the stirrup. “Shit, she didn’t. I better check in--” Kravitz waved a hand.

“I can portal to her and check,” He said. “We’re going to have to keep this one close to the chest from here on out. Call me if anything changes.” He turned to Taako. “Parting is such sweet sorrow, love.”

“Ain’t it a bitch?’ Taako replied, giving him a peck on the cheek.

“Gross,” Lup said.

Kravtiz carved a wild arc with his scythe. Then, with a snap of the reins, the shadow of a horse and death himself galloped through, and disappeared.

Taako slipped onto Garyl. He waited for Lup to get on her own steed, then chirped, “I’ll get the thing and meet you at the brewery in like an hour. Save me some winnings.”

“Steal me some shit,” Lup said. They exchanged grins and then guided their respective steeds in opposite directions.

* * *

Barry stepped through the portal into the Refuge cemetery easily enough. He left his horse to gaze around the back of the temple while he followed the path to the morgue. However, one look at the wide open door of the building later, and he ran inside and exclaimed, “Oh, hell.”

* * *

Taako pulled up to the Monkey’s Pawn shop and gave the neat little building a once over. He dismissed Garyl and strode inside, barely giving a glance to all the gadgetry in the case. What instead caught his eyes were two grown folks in dark colored clothes leaning over the counter. An aarokocra and a half orc, both wearing black bandanas, and on their chest were the black antler pins. The shopkeeper, Spiffly looked up at the elf with nervous, placating eyes.

“W-welcome to my humble establishment,” he said, his already mildly high voice pitched an octave higher.

“Howdy and well met,” Taako said enthusiastically, pointedly ignoring the other two purveyors in the shop. “I’ve just swung in because I’m interested in making a deal for an item or two.”

“Oh?” Spiffly said, his eyes darting around. “What might that be?”

“Nothing big,” Taako said, leaning over the counter. His eyes fell on a display case full of beautifully manufactured watches and lockets, inlaid with precious stones and resting on plush velvet. He nodded to himself and looked the shopkeeper in the eyes. “I want the snapshot, the spectacles, the deed, and pretty much everything else in your shop.”

Taako felt a heavy hand land on his shoulder. He grinned.

* * *

Even at seven o’ clock in the evening, there was still quite a bit of sunlight left in the day. Folks, having left work and settled in a bit, were beginning to head back out and enjoy what few means of entertainment the large town of Clayridge had to offer.

The Redlock Brewery was bustling with life by the time Lup strolled up to it’s flashy front entrance. There was a line of people waiting to be let in through what appeared to be a direct entry to the casino area. Lup had taken the liberty to change into a loose red dress a black studded boots. She still kept the wide brimmed hat on, but opted to drape a black veil over the front to obscure her face.

She drew more than a handful of eyes in her direction, which she met with a confident smile. On the right side of her chest was the black antler pin that they had procured earlier from the Cleric. The men standing in front of the doorway saw it, tipped their hats to her, and opened the door without a hitch.

 _Well, that was easier than expected,_ she thought. _That’s either really good or really fuckin’ bad._

Yet the concern flew away rather quickly. From the moment she entered the den, Lup knew she was in her element. There were quite a few people already seated at tables, either playing cards or pool--with a handful of people at a nearby bar, just looking on. The smell of freshly crafted beer and cider wafted through the air. The rattling of gold coins being passed from hand to hand was most inviting.

One of the dealers caught Lup’s eye and motioned to an open chair at a nearby round table.

“Welcome friend, to the Redlock Brewery,” she said. “If you wish to play ,then have a seat!”

The dealer was a green tiefling woman, her horns decorated with gold rings. She wore a pretty saloon dress, with the signifying pin placed neatly on her corset. The other people at the table looked less inviting. As Lup took the seat, she noticed a gruff looking human man to her right, and a halfling woman with an eyepatch and cigar. Across from Lup was a dragon born with bright red scales and gold eyes. They all looked at her with mild confusion, but as soon as they noticed the pin, they settled down.

“What game are we playing?” Lup asked, having sized up her competition.

“Here at Redlock, we have a special game,” The tiefling woman said. “It’s quite simple.” She revealed a stack of cards from a skirt pocket and then began to shuffle them with a flourish. “Every Diamond card in the deck represents bad luck. Every Spade is good luck. Each player draws a card and opts to either reveal it, or pass. Reveal a diamond card and you’re out. Reveal a Spade, and the following player has to draw two cards. You get three free passes, and if you must pull two cards, you can use it on one of the two, or two passes on both.”

“Last one standing wins,” Lup said. This sounded like a particularly fast game. The dealer chuckled.

“Precisely!” The tiefling extended the facedown deck towards Lup. “As a courtesy to our guests, we let newcomers be the first to cut the deck.”

“Oh!” Lup said, her ears sticking up enthusiastically. She grabbed the deck. “Well, that’s awfully kind!” Just by touching the cards, she knew there was a bit of magic laced within them. But as always, she had a bit of magic of her own. Even with all eyes directly on her, Lup smiled easily and separated the deck in halves.

With a nigh perfect flick of her wrist, the original ace of spades was slipped out, and a new ace of spades was slipped in. The old card flew under the table by her chair. As she set the deck back in the center of the table, she tapped her foot and the old card sparked and burnt out completely.

Her card was an item that would be naturally drawn to her hand. It made playing less of a gamble, but for now she was more focused on how best to draw in as many of the Misfortunate into this place at once.

“Is there a name for this game?” Lup asked. The dealer chuckled once more.

“Oh yes,” She said. “It’s called Spades Slick.”

* * *

Kravitz saw the covered wagon in the field. The horses had not been unyoked, and appeared to be a bit skittish--neighing feverishly upon seeing him. The surrounding area seemed too quiet. He realized that none of the cattle were anywhere to be seen. Kravitz hurried to the front of the house  and saw that the door knob had been broken. He flung the door open and took in the sight. Furniture was knocked over. A glass vase full of daisies lay broken on the floor. There was a bullet or two in the ceiling, but no sign of blood.

“Shit,” he muttered. He plucked a raven feather from the brim of his hat. As it glowed, Barry’s face came into view, wearing an exasperated look. The man noticed Kravitz right away.

“Oh! Hey,” Barry spoke. “I was just about to call you. We’ve...got a problem.”

“More than the one I’ve got here?” Kravitz asked, turning on his heel and hurrying out of the house.

“Yeah, we—Wait, what do you mean? Did something happen over there?”

“I think miss Pattie Doads has been kidnapped.” Kravitz waved his arm over at his own horse and the large black steed trotted towards him. “I’m at her house. It’s a mess. Forced break in. There’s no sign of her, or anyone else around.”

“Shit, shit. Well, I guess that makes two of us, bud.”

“Why do you say that?” Kravitz asked, planting a foot in the stirrup and slinging himself onto his horse. He could see Barry exiting from a building--the Refuge Mortuary. He whistled to his own steed and looked back at the reaper with a shake of his head.

“Rusty’s body has gone missing from the morgue,” he replied. “All his clothes too--Luca just ran out looking worried as hell. I think word got out, ‘cause everyone in town has been kicked into a bit of a tailspin.” The feather began to fade. “Krav, whatever’s going on, we gotta move fast.” Kravitz grit his teeth.

“No kidding,” he replied, cracking the reins. “I’ll meet you there.” The feather dissipated in his hands. His horse reared back and then transformed. Its shining black mane faded into grey, limp hairs. It’s brown eyes hollowed ominously. It’s obsidian pelt gave way to shining white bone. It reared back and let loose a neigh loud enough to reverberate across acres of the ranch. From a distance he could hear the cows from over the rolling hills. Kravitz steadied himself in the saddle and turned it towards the open plain.

“No point in taking the scenic route,” he said, summoning his scythe once more.

* * *

Barry rode his horse around the main street of refuge. He kept a careful eye out for anything that could be out of the ordinary. Well, aside from the large crowds of people who stood murmuring over the mysteriously disappeared body from the morgue. Juicy gossip travels fast. There were horse riders and wagons still traveling through the main street. Barry was about to ride back towards the temple, when something caught his eye.

A band of maybe 3-4 people, slipped from around the back of Helpington’s general store, into a back alley. One of them peaked around the corner suspiciously, and Barry glanced away, momentarily grateful for the crowd. But after a second, he looked back and the person was gone.

Barry slipped from the back of his horse and gave her a pet on the nose.

“Wait here for me, okay?” He asked. The horse whinnied cheerfully in response.

He walked down the alley. Between the general store and the building beside it was an innocuous looking storage shed. On the door of the shed was some sort of magic enhanced padlock. Barry ignored the lock entirely and opted to use his scythe to cut an entry inside.

He was greeted with pitch darkness.

* * *

Taako used the handle of his umbrastaff to gently unhook the half orc’s large hand from his person. “I’d say 'hands off the merch,'” he said, evenly. “But that’s distinctly what I’m here for."

“ _Do you know who this store belongs to?_ ” The half orc man asked, his voice lined with a steady rage.

Taako met his gaze, yet pointed a thumb over at Spiffly. “Thought it was this fella?”

The shopkeeper, for his part, ducked down meekly behind the counter.

The aarakocra spoke up, their feathers puffing up, indignant. “You’re looking at the owner of half of Clayridge. Rising High Member of the Misfortunate: Cameron the Calamitous.”

Taako glanced at a nearby clock. 7:15pm. If Lup hadn’t raised hell yet, she was going to fairly soon. He might as well start the fireworks early.

“Well, I’m sure you can tell, I’m Taako,” he said, slinging his umbrella over his shoulder. “But I take from your lack of stunned faces that the two of you don’t know that I’m an entrepreneur too. I’m sure we can cut up a business deal. Maybe consolidate our brands?”

“I’ll consolidate your throat with my fist!” Cameron said, his voice now becoming a slight roar.

A ripple of magic charged through the umbrastaff and shot over Taako’s shoulder, directly at the face of the aarakocra, who was blasted back into a display case. A shower of glass and mechanical parts hit the ground.The half orc stepped back, but not before Taako aimed the staff directly at his chest.

“Not today, compadre!”

* * *

Barry cast flickering lights. He could tell that he was standing at the top of a staircase. He looked straight down, and saw a table down below, with the body of Rusty Doads laid out, looking fully dressed, but otherwise still dead.

Barry slowly descended the stairs, looking around for any other people. The basement area--or, that’s how it appeared--was large, and wooden, and empty. There were some storage shelves here and there, but nothing obscure enough for anyone to sufficiently hide behind. As soon as he got to the bottom and took another step, he heard a sound behind him. The light from his spell went out. Before he could cast another, he felt a violent force knock him off his feet, and fling him across the room into one of the shelves.

Even through a ringing head, Barry could hear voices, loud and angry, gathering around. He couldn’t see where they were coming from. The door was flung open, and he shielded his eyes to get a look--at least five people were rushing down the stairs. They all carried clubs and wands. In front of him was a large, shadowy beast--a hellhound, gnarling at him menacingly.

* * *

The half orc man shouted a spell, just as Taako shot off a missile from his umbrastaff. The man’s body lurched back through a portal to some unseen location. The shock from Taako’s spell still managed to hit him, and he screamed as the portal closed up. The residual blast caused more of the glass cases in the shop to shatter.

Taako cursed and looked around. There was still the things he needed to grab before meeting back up with the others. The aarakocra was out cold, looking badly injured in the head. He glanced at the halfling shopkeeper, who sat cowering in the corner.

Taako leaned forward and put his face in his palm. “Soooo like I said, you down for a deal or what?”

* * *

They placed bets and the human drew first. Four of spades. Lup was forced to draw two cards. She revealed the first: A two of spades. She passed on the second card, so it remained unrevealed. The halfling was forced to draw two. She revealed: a seven of hearts...and jack of diamonds, bad luck and an out.

The dragonborn drew a king of clubs. The human drew nine of diamonds--out. That left Lup with the dragonborn left. They looked at her with glowering, golden eyes. She shrugged and revealed an eight of spades. The dragonborn drew two: Clover six and spades king. Lup, unfazed, drew two cards and revealed the first: a ten of spades. She passed on the second, hoping for a chance.

The dragonborn drew two and revealed them: clubs queen and hearts five. Safe.

Lup drew a breath as she pulled another card. She only had one pass left. Should she use it now? It really didn’t matter if she won or lost the game. But still, she wanted to have fun.

She revealed: Ace of Spades. The dragonborn pulled two: seven and five of diamonds. Double bad luck.

“Oh, would you look at that!” Lup said, pulling her winnings toward herself. “This turned out so good! I think I like this game!”

“Spades on every round!” the halfling yelled. “That’s bullshit!”

“That’s good luck, is what it is,” Lup replied innocently.

“All luck is the same,” said the players, and the dealer. Their eyes slowly narrow in on her in an unsettling manner. Their voices chorused: “It is equal and fair. It is fickle and unfeeling. The good...and bad.”

Lup scooted back in her chair. She had seen enough.

A glint appeared in her eyes and a grin danced on her lips. With a flourish, she tossed the deck of cards in the air and they combusted, raining ashes across the room. Like oil on water, the brim her sombrero and the lace of her dress caught aflame. She hooked her leg around the human’s chair and, with a quick twist, set him toppling over. Everyone in the room scooted from their seats and raised their firearms. But it was too late now. They reared back as Lup flipped herself onto the center of the table--scythe in hand, spurs flickering like lighters--ready to fight.

* * *

Barry coughed and slowly rose to his feet. The attackers all chuckled and nudged each other’s sides. They were about to raise their clubs for another swing, but then Barry’s hand cracked with a sudden electricity. His soft, brown eyes flooded with an empty, black void. He took a labored step forward, and then another that wasn’t so labored. Strange markings appeared and disappeared on his forearms and face. Whispered words fell from his lips in a language none of them could understand. The group collectively stepped back, struck with an odd chill in their hearts.

* * *

The moment Kravitz entered Refuge, people dispersed. Doors were quickly locked and windows shuttered, aside from a few curious, peeking eyes. Kravtiz carried on, knowing this was for the best. The wind didn’t blow and the dust didn’t kick as he rode his skeleton horse through town. The last of the evening sun was cutting long, black shadows into everything in sight. Buzzards flew in and swirled in circles above him, like a foreboding halo. The hour to collect had arrived, and no one for miles around dared to interfere with the work of the Grim Reaper.

* * *

Taako strode out of The Monkey’s Pawn nonchalantly, his bag of holding filled to the brim with expensive shit. He shaded his eyes with his hands and watched as the last of the sun slipped beneath the horizon.

But then it didn’t slip.

It started to rise back up again.

“Aw fuck,” he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure if there's an actual card game that exists that uses the method I used. I just needed something that could be won in relatively few rounds. It's rather fun! If you like cards you should play it. What I love most about it, is that it's less about having good luck, and more about forcing bad luck on your opponent. ~symbolism~


	8. The Coming of the Undertaker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me, editing this chapter: "Hmmmm, needs even MORE cowbell"

The sun began to rise.

The sun began to rise.

The sun began to rise.

The sun—

After the fourth successive sunrise in a row, Taako whipped out his stone of far speech and called his sister.

* * *

 

Lup dropped into a spin kick and her spurs caught the arm of a man who tried to grab her by the ankle.  Some of the dealers rushed to tip over the table, but she swung her scythe with the rest of her momentum, cutting them down easily. She leapt from the table to a chair, kicking the back of it down and taking a swing at another row of card players. She barely dodged a barrage of beer bottles flying towards her, when her stone of farspeech received a message.

“Go for Lup,” she replied, giving it a tap.

“Hey,” Taako said, on the other end. “Have you...taken a gander outside yet?”

Lup whacked a cultist on the head with the heavy handle of her scythe. “Nope, not since I came here. Why?”

“Well, when you get the chance, have a look. Cause funky time shit is happening.”

Lup glanced out a nearby window, and low and behold, not only was the sky moving in reverse, but so were many of the people bustling around the street. “Aw, fuck.”

“Yeah, that’s what I said,” Taako muttered on his side. “I haven’t heard from Nerd Boyfriends™ yet, but I’m sure they’re probably seeing it too.”

A man screamed, as a chair that Lup had hooked her blade into was sent flying across the room, colliding with his back.

Taako continued, “Brewery owner dude was here, with a friend.”

“No way,” Lup replied. At this point, the last of the surviving cultists were trying to escape the room, but Lup cast Force Cage, trapping a large number of them within range, and simultaneously blocking the exit for the rest. She ambled towards them casually, slinging her weapon over her shoulder.

“Yeah. I took out his friend,” Taako said. “But the sonofabitch got away. Any clue where he might’ve slipped to?”

Lup heard a shuffling noise coming from above. She glanced at the ceiling, then over to a conspicuous set of stairs on the far side of the room.

“I might have an idea,” She said—then gave a final, decisive swing.

* * *

Barry, having cast Eyebite successfully, rendered the hellhound utterly frightened. The large, cursed creature howled and backed into one of the corners. The attackers crowding around Barry took this as a bad sign and immediately attempted to back out the door.

“Nope,” Barry said, sounding strangely echoey. He pointed a hand at the top of the stairs, and a dark cloud of necromantic energy manifested and rolled down the steps. The moment the group became engulfed in it, they fell to their hands and knees and gasped for air like fish out of water. The hellhound howled again, its voice echoing through the room, before dispersing from this plane altogether.

Barry’s eyes blinked rapidly, slowly losing their vacantness. Balancing against the one shelf that he hadn’t been thrown into, his gaze fell on the body of Rusty Doads. The light above flickered on and off rapidly, skewing his vision. He could make out that the body was lying there on the table. But a second later it was not lying there. And maybe for a few seconds, it was sitting up? But then it wasn’t.

Just as he was about to cross the room to inspect it, he heard a sound from the doorway. Looking up, he saw the same group of people hurrying down the stairs, passing through the versions of themselves that were still gasping on the floor, unfazed. Barry stepped back and watched them search around the room for some unseen thing. He saw more and more of the people, moving about and through each other, as if they were reliving various moments in time. The room filled with faint noises of people talking or shouting or gasping.

Taking the hint that funky time shit was happening, he summoned his scythe and cut open a portal to the outside.

* * *

The sun began to rise. Then fall. Then another sun rose beside it. Then they fell and rose together.

 

Birds circling overhead began to fly in erratic, repeating patterns.The shifting of the shadows caught Kravitiz’s eyes, and that’s when he noticed that the time of day was changing. The clouds rolled back and forth, redoing and undoing their usual weather patterns. On the ground, faint outlines of movement began to occur. Wagons that were parked were beginning to move around. Plants withered and regrew. Folks who had previously meandered out of buildings began to rush inside in continuous, replicating lines.

The people of Refuge took one look at the sky above them and the after images of the confrontation going on around them, and collectively yelled, “NOT A-FUCKING-GAIN!”

One horse drawn wagon came roaring onto the main street. The horses were being driven so fast, they nearly careened the whole thing. They turned the corner and went down another road. At the helm was Pirithin, a look of mania on her face, and a pair decked out binoculars tied around her neck. From the back of the wagon came a scream, a familiar voice—that of Pattie Doads.

Kravitz was about to snap the reins of his horse again, when a portal ripped open before him and Barry stumbled out. The latter took a passing glance at the former, and then at the confusing state around them.

“I guess my calculations were a bit off,” He said, looking up at Kravitz with a sheepish half-grin.

“Probably,” Kravitz replied, smirking just a little. “But considering we might be experiencing a bit of a paradox, you’re probably right as well.” He gestured down the street. “I just saw the wagon with Pirithin and Pattie whizz by, most likely towards the temple. Any sign of Rusty’s body?”

“I saw it in a hideaway near here. Some of the men from the cult must have whisked it away in an attempt to prevent all this from happening,” Barry said. He whistled for his horse, and the mare trotted towards him through the dizzying view. The man pulled himself into the saddle. “But to be honest, I don’t think that’s the version of Doads we need to keep an eye on.”

The two of them took off down the road towards the Temple of Istus, dodging out of the way of images of scattered timelines.

“What do you mean _versions_?” Kravitz asked. Barry pointed to a spot outside the Bank of Refuge. There they saw a different version of Rusty Doads. This one getting assaulted by a group of cult members outside the front steps of the bank. Further down was another Rusty, being shot through by an arrow, from a member hiding covertly on one of the building rooftops.

“The timing may be off,” Barry said. “But the death record for our plane is probably going to remain consistent. The longer we take to find him, the more versions of Doads will appear.”

Kravitz remembered what the record book had said about Doads the day he had taken up the case: Bullet wound to the heart, his body found in Refuge, not too far away from the Temple of Istus. He dug his spurs into his skeleton horse’s nonexistent hide, rapidly increasing its pace. “Our version going to get shot point blank,” he called back to Barry, who had also raised his horse to a gallop. “We need to be there when it happens.”

* * *

Suns are rising three or four at a time. They are rising in lines, they are rising in rows--

 

A rip in space appeared before Taako. He eagerly tossed his bag of holding into a pocket dimension and jumped through, umbrastaff aimed straight ahead.

The group of cultists had, for the most part, been dispatched. Tables and chairs were knocked over. Cards and game tokens were scattered everywhere. Tipped pint glasses of beer lay broken and messy on the floor. There was also, just generally, fire everywhere.

Taako put a hand on his hip. “You couldn’t save some fun for me, could ya?”

“There’s still stragglers,” Lup said, bringing her blade down on one last foe. “I think some of them managed to slip by me and make it up stairs. Have a look for me?”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Taako said, having already turned toward the staircase. This part of the room was largely unlit, but that left his darkvision unaffected. At the top of the stairs, something caught his eye. “Hey Lulu, come check this shit out,” he called.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Lup said, trailing close behind him.

They could see old photos and strange runes decorating the wall of the hall. There were also pipes lining the ceiling, possibly to help channel the fumes from the fermented air of the brewery kettles. A door that looked like it lead to an office space was slightly opened. From within came the sound of voices.

The twins glanced at each other, then doused the lights. Lup stepped forward, careful not to make a sound.

At the far end stood an ominous shrine of some sort. There was a small marble carving of a woman, the base of which was surrounded by a crown of thorns. Her long gown was painted black, and in her outstretched arms was a ragged whip. There was a cold and unkind feeling emanating from the statuette. Taako made a face at it, and Lup had to clasp her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing.

They turned the corner and entered what looked to be a large office space. Just as the last of Cameron’s men leap through an open portal.

They heard a shuffling sound, then noticed a faint flash of light. Taako barely had a chance to pop open the umbrastaff before a weak but sharp spell was fired off at them. The umbrastaff turned outward and swallowed the spell whole, shaking as it absorbed the raw magic.

Lup lit a flame in her palm, casting the room in a warm glow. Cameron, the half orc man, looked up at them from a few meters away. He leaned painfully against a large oak desk, holding his side awkwardly. There was desperation on his face.

“Piri sent y’all to kill me?” He asked roughly. And there was a familiar clinking noise as he spoke. The sound of coins rattling to the ground momentarily caught Taako’s attention.

“We’re after her too,” Lup said. “But we came to get a particular item first.”

Cameron attempted to straighten. “You’re too late then. She done already lit outta here through a dimension door not less than half an hour ago. Took a nasty strike from her. Just sent some of men after her, not that it'll make a difference.”

“Was her daughter with her?” Lup demanded.

“I ain’t bothered to notice,” he said.

“Tell me,” Lup asked, pointing the tip of her scythe at his face. “Why did you attack the Doads Ranch? And why did you kill Rusty?”

Cameron gave her grisly grin. “Had my eyes on that land for ages. Tried scaring them off with threats and harassment. Thought we could out-power them. Then his missus came barging in--defeated our cleric outta nowhere. One of our own, you hear me? Next day I sent my men to kill Doads when he was away in Refuge. But I didn’t know that spell on him she casted would render him unliving.”

“Unliving,” Lup murmured. She’d talk to Barry about that later.

Cameron continued. “Then came Ole Piri, threatening my head off if I didn’t give her the means to get him back. Almost sabotaged this beautiful brewery of mine. Had to respect her in a way, she’s cut out to spread misfortune.”

“The means?” Taako asked. “I heard of playing the long con, my man, but what gives?”

“The seer’s spectacles. Had ‘em in that old pawn shop I bought a few years back. Got the deed from her that way. But they were just to find Rusty’s soul, not enough to bring him back. She’d need more magic.” He said, once again grabbing his side. “I told her I’d give her that, if she came round here tonight and played the game with me. A wish for a wish. A spell for a spell.”

“Curse for curse, you mean,” Lup said, evenly. “What was yours?”

“I said I wanted...to taste all the riches that this world had to offer.” He coughed, and a gold coin suddenly falls from his mouth. Lup and Taako’s brows rose in surprise. He coughed again, and a ruby falls to the ground.

“Damn fella,” Taako said, taking no qualms in bending down and inspecting the ruby. “It wouldn’t kill you boys to use a little more specificity?”

Cameron pounded a fist against the desk. “And limit the creativity of the welder? Ungrateful wretch, this is an art! Our spells are blessed by the Lady Doom herself, imbued with a power you can’t fathom. We of the Misfortunate take all maladies with pride. We accept it in its many forms.” His eyes took on a haunting glaze.

“Yeah?” Taako said, planting a hand on his hip. “My cooking is art, but as least I keep a measurements and recipes so I don’t fuck shit up, asshole.”

“What was her wish?” Lup asked, finding herself done with the conversation.

“To…” Cameron’s legs gave out from under him, and his hand falls from his side. He clattered ungracefully on the floor, coughing more precious stones as he does. There was blood on his hands and it was now clear that there was a large gash on his side. Even more gold coins appeared, these were bloodied from his injury. Taako lurched, realizing that they were coming out of the man’s midsection.

“What was her wish?” Lup asked again, hold up her blade. There’s something so rueful in his eyes that it turned her stomach. His head slumped forward.

“She asked for more time…” And here, the light in his eyes started to fade. “...She asked for all the time in the world.”

* * *

 

The suns begin--the suns begin---the suns are rising rising rising--beginning beginning-the su--

 

In front of the Temple of Istus a wagon stopped. There were quite a few wagons moving to and fro due to the converging timelines, but this one was of particular significance. Pirithin hopped out of the driver’s seat and put the seers spectacles over her eyes. She walked a short perimeter and kept adjusting the dials on the sides until she found one timeline that seemed to satisfy her suspicions.

“It’s here,” she said in a breathy voice. She crossed a line of dirt in the sand with her foot. “He’s here.”

She ran towards the wagon, and there followed was the sound of scuffling. She shortly reemerged, holding Pattie in tow, the girl’s arms tied behind her back. The two women wrestled against each other, making it difficult to get both pairs of feet planted on the ground. But somehow, Pirithin managed. She forced Pattie to her knees, and pulled a short wand from her waist belt. Pointing the wand towards the continuously shifting heavens, Pirithin glared down at her own daughter.

"Make a wish!” She demanded. "Wish for his return!"

“Ma, no!” Pattie screamed.

“A soul, a soul! A spell, a spell!”

“Ma, please!”

Pirithin’s eyes were frenzied, her breath—rushed and seething. Her hand holding the wand lowered and aimed at Pattie’s face. “Those bastards! They took Rusty’s life, they took his land, and they fucking took the grace from him to die! If you want him back so badly, then wish!”

The paper thin edge of a reaper’s scythe appeared at her neck. Pirithin let go of her daughter’s arm, and stood stock still as Kravitz—skeleton face and feathered cowl in tow—leaned over her like an ice cold shadow. Pattie scooted a few feet away, face drenched in tears. Barry came up and cut the rope that bound her hands. He helped her to her feet.

A rift cut open near the group of four and Taako and Lup jumped through. The twins took note of the fray around them and the standstill happening before them.

“Glad to see you guys have everything under control!” Taako piped up.

“Uh, yeah,” Barry said, unable to match the elf’s ability to make light of the situation. “You guys...got your end cleared up?”

“Hell yeah, babe,” Lup said. “We figured out why time's gotten all funky. Other than that, we definitely took care of the cult.”

“And we definitely _didn’t_ loot a corpse full of money!” Taako said.

Kravitz put a mental pin in _that_ last response to ask about later. But not until he was ready to bear the consequences of the answer.

“A-are you gotta take her?” Pattie asked, voice trembling. Her eyes were fixed on Kravitz, on his scythe, on her mother. Everyone’s eyes fell on the two of them. Pirithin still looked manic. Her body was trembling, her eyes flickering from one face to the next—as if she would lash out again if given the chance.

Kravitz’s eyes moved from her to the thousands of people caught in the loops, playing out their lives in a single moment, and he was almost transfixed by it. It’s similar to the feeling he got when gazing out at the sea of souls in the astral plane. But instead of placid serenity, this was bustling cacophony. Life condensing into unfettered extremes.

“Later,” he exclaimed, his voice rising over the sound. He waved a hand and a set of black handcuffs appeared around Pirithin’s wrists. She fell to her knees, weighed down by a binding spell. “Our first priority is to take care of this mess.”

Around them, timelines were converging at a faster and faster pace. The street churned with the sound of wagons and steeds and people, following the routines that had been set in place over the course of decades. The reapers, wizard, and two farm women were quickly being forced into a tight circle to avoid all the traffic around them. Gunshots and arrows and spells whizzed past their heads. There was a pressurized feeling, as if their timeline was straining under the weight of it all.

“Wasn’t there an item that could pause all this?” Lup shouted over the noise.

“Oh right!” Taako exclaimed. He waved a hand and the pocket dimension he had stowed away opened up. He grabbed his bag of holding and pulled from it the small, gun-like device. “The...photobomb or whatever!”

“The snapshot!” Barry yelled. “Aim it at Doads!”

Taako gestured his hands at the multiple Rusty Doads in action before them. “Which Doads?”

“The...” Kravitz started. There was so much dying and not dying going on around him that his instincts as a reaper seemed to all but fail him. The suns--there are so many suns rising now--they were blinding.

His eyes then fall on one version of Rusty, one who seemed to stand out from the crowd. His eyes were fixed on the reaper, fearful, but expectant. His many, many lives played out before him, but his death remained eminent. Constant.

Simple.

“That one!” Kravitz shouted, pointing.

Taako fires the shot, a ring of sound and light slips into the crowd. A ripple of magic bursts forth, and the timelines immediately start breaking apart. They flicker from hundreds to tens, to just a few, to one major timeline. The true showdown plays out like a film reel. Afterimages of Rusty leaving his wagon coalescence. A group of cultists charging towards him, colliding into one significant moment. One aims a simple pistol, and it rings out a familiar—but not too familiar—shot.

The bullet exits the barrel and flies straight at Rusty. As it comes within arm’s length of hitting his chest, its flight is paused by the tip of Kravitz’s scythe. Kravitz, in full reaper form, steps in front of Rusty and looks him in the eyes. Time around them stops. The afterimages slowly disappear, and there is just the man and The Reaper looking at each other eye to eye.

Rusty gulps—recognizing Kravitz instantly—and politely, if nervously, tips his hat.

“Do you know why I’m here?” Kravitz asks, voice even.

“You’ve come to take me away,” Rusty croaks. Kravitz nods, and Rusty looks down at his boots. He sighs. “It sure was something. To see all of my life in so many ways, in so many moments. Not many folks get a chance to experience it, I guess.”

Kravitz doesn’t say anything. Rusty glances around at the town. He takes off his hat and holds it in his trembling hands.

“Some real good work has been done around here. I remember back when Refuge was on its last legs, and when it was conjured for years in that bubble. I thought I’d never see the day when everyone here looked so happy. I want things to stay that way...everywhere.”

“We’ll take care of things,” Kravitz says, in about as comforting tone as he can provide for a bounty.

“Good on ya,” Rusty says, before he sets his hat back on. His eyes fall toward the other reapers. Toward Pirithin...and Pattie. They are all fixed in time, unable to reach him. The man smiles weakly and says “Oh, my dears...the cows will be coming back soon.”

Kravitz disappears. The bullet hits Rusty’s chest. He falls to the ground, lands on his back, and quickly dies.

 

The sun began to descend.

* * *

 

Back at the Doads ranch, Pattie led Taako towards the storage building, to let him sample some of their award winning jerky.

“I’m not a dried meat kinda guy myself,” he said, tagging behind her. “But if it’s as good as you say it is, then Taako™ might be willing to make an offer for distribution rights.”

The reaper squad stood out in the field, a short distance from the house. Their steeds were all trotting merrily and grazing through the wide, open land. In front of them sat Pirithin Doads, still shackled by the spell. Her eyes looked vacant, her face placid. There was a heavy feeling in the air..

“I don’t want to do this,” Lup said.

“Lup,” Barry said. He knew what she’s thinking.

Lup didn’t respond. She knew what he’s thinking.

“Our job,” Kravitz said, gently. “We have to capture the souls of the parties responsible for this mess, and that includes Rusty and his wife.”

“Fuck this,” Lup whispered, tugging down at the brim of her sombrero. Barry places a hand on her shoulder.

"I'll do it," he said.

Before the trio could talk the rest of it out, Pirithin’s eyes snapped to attention, and then clouded over with inky black. The scene around them shifts from beautiful green farmland, to an open white space. Barry and Lup summon their scythes, experiencing a shrill of nervousness from the strange, interdimensional room. But Kravitz stands still, keeping his eyes on Pirithin.

Behind the bound woman, a figure manifests. This one tall, radiating ancient power. It takes on the form similar to the statuette that Lup had seen deep in the boughs of the Redlock Brewery. This time dressed in more extravagant, dark garbs. Her white hair flowed over her pale shoulders like a thunderous waterfall. Two white wings, tipped with black feathers, emerged from her back and flapped elegantly. Her hands gripped tight around the handle of her whip.

Besheba stood before them.

“Death,” she said, her voice echoing slightly. Her words poured from her own mouth, as well as the mouth of Pirithin, who otherwise didn’t move.

“Doom,” Kravitz replied. He doesn’t bow to her like he would his own goddess. Lup and Barry are reminded of the fact that he is far older and set apart than either of them. This probably isn’t his first encounter with other deities. He continues, “The woman you inhibit casted a spell that sent me and my partners on a bit of a turn. The Raven Queen will not have this.”

She smiled at him. “I am never found bored with little creatures running around pulling stunts like this.” There is something condescending in her voice.

Kravitz frowns. “For _what_ purpose did you chose to settle here?”

“I thought I could rest a moment,” She runs a delicate hand through her hair. “My power weakened significantly since the Day of Story and Song. I required tribute from my loyal followers. Same as any god.”

“You call that tribute?” Lup said, speaking for the first time. Barry nervously glanced over at her. At first she looked surprised at herself, but then surged forward. “The little ‘game’ you let your followers play is incredibly dangerous!”

“It honors me just the same,” Beshaba crooned. “As much as I _ache_ for the cosmic calamity that was the Hunger’s encroachment upon this plane, there is nothing I quite like more than tasting the _raw_ meat of small, personal accounts of bad luck that befall mortals. It is a fun game, one of which I shall _never_ tire.”

“The Hunger was a glitch in the fantasy Matrix,” Lup said, rolling her eyes.

“Most deities don’t work on such a large scale,” Barry said, agreeing. “There wasn’t a balancing agent at the time.”

“We’re talking scales now?” Beshaba said, her voice rising to a sudden screech. She raised the hand holding the whip and cracked it furiously, a bolt of lightening rippled above them. “Watch your tongue, reaper. I _am_ the balancing agent. Against that which what is pure and light are judged. Without me to compare to, we cannot assume what is ‘fortunate’, or ‘good,’ or ‘‘right.’ I am awful. I am unwanted. _Ego Infortunii!_ ” With a brief flap of her wings, she seemed to calm down a bit. “But I am fair, and I am necessary. You are the same.”

Kravitz gestured at Pirithin. “We will be taking this follower of yours into custody then.”

“Do what you want with her,” Beshaba said. She waved a dismissive hand. “She was tiresome anyway. More devoted to her slovenly husband and this arid patch of land than to me. I cannot stand it any longer.” She turned away from them, looking very put out the whole thing.

The trio of reapers made a silent prayer of thanks to the Raven Queen for her steadfast nature. Lup and Barry had spent lifetimes breaking her laws. Kravitz devoted himself to her, and even then he would bend the rules. Somehow they knew that no matter what, She would never abandon them like this.

“But wasn’t it fun?” Beshaba asked quietly.

“What?” Kravitz said.

“The fact that I had managed to elude you and your fellow reapers. If only for a short time. I’m sure that ruffled _Her_ feathers quite a bit. Perhaps I’ll pay a visit to the Astral Plane, and see if she found the joke amusing personally.”

She started to giggle, but she was interrupted by another thunderous sound coming from far away.

“BESHABAAAAAA!!!!!” A voice echoed. All of them turned to see an interdimensional door appear. Not a second after, a large foot kicked it open, and barreling into the room was Lady Istus, Goddesss of Time and Fate. Her gorgeous face was absolutely seething. She stomped across the floor to Beshaba, her gown rippling like an ocean wave.

“Have any thoughts about...this!!” She conjured her scarf of fate. The part she held looked neat and evenly knitted, but there was a large chunk of it that looked absolutely tangled and knotted, as if someone had yanked all the strings out of place and tried to re-tie some spots together haphazardly. It’s a definite mess.

The reapers huddled together, utterly frightened by how angry Istus looked. Beshaba, for her part, looked rather sheepish.

“Um,” she murmured. “I can explain?”

“EXPLAIN!?” Istus roared. “You can explain to me AND Raven, why you--

Suddenly the reapers found themselves back in the open field. The Goddess were gone, the room was gone. There was a short beeping sound, as if a phone had just been hung up. Then it’s gone as well.

They all looked at each other and shrugged.

Their moment was interrupted by the ringing of a loud cowbell. They glanced back to see Taako ringing the fucking thing with the giddiness of a kid at a carnival. Pattie still stood beside him, but her eyes were fixed on the reapers. On her mother.

The hills slowly filled with the voices of thousands of cows. They ambled on heavy hooved feet towards everyone. One of the newborn calves ran up and head butted Pirithin with as much energetic force as its little, spindly-limbed body could muster.

Pirithin, still shackled, blinked with just a modicum of lucidity. She looked up at the reapers before her, and at her daughter in the distance. Then her eyes went wide as she realized the gravity of what she had done.

“Oh, goodness,” she whispered, tears welling. “How could this happen?” More of the cows started to approach them, mooing comfortably. The calf licks her face with its little tongue. “How could this happen?” Pirithin sobbed again.

Pattie ran up to the trio in a near instant. The mother and daughter looked at each other, and then Pattie fell to her knees and wrapped her arms around Pirithin without saying a word.

The reapers give them a little bit of time.

* * *

Lup and Kravitz had led Pattie back up to the house to talk with Taako. The cows had all been herded into the stables. Barry sighed.

He swung his scythe through Piri’s body, leaving not a scratch. Her soul emerged quickly, glowing faint, before coalescing into a recognizable form. She looked at him, first frightfully, then solemnly resigned. He ripped open a rift to the astral plane and looked back at her. Ghostly tears streamed down her face, but she took two steps forward. She paused and tried to wipe them away, but they continued to pour.

Barry extended a hand. He had seen the same fear on many faces of unlucky souls who happened to get caught in the tangle of misfortune. He gave her a comforting smile, the only solace he could really provide at this moment. She took his hand nervously, nodding with understanding. She stepped through the portal, which flickered powerfully and closed behind her.

* * *

Rusty’s soul had left his body, now with purpose, and traveled to the astral plane. The Raven Queen is perched on her throne of obsidian and silver. He stands before her, his hat in one hand, his wife’s palm held firmly in the other. They are judged accordingly.

* * *

The following day met the reapers with clear skies and a lot of paperwork that they knew they have to tackle. Taako insisted on going back to the diner they previously visited to try out more of the menu.

“You can do homework and eat food at the same time,” he said, saddling up to go.

“It’s not homework, it’s our _job_ ,” Barry replied. His horse whinnies in agreement.

“Any work that requires you to write an essay is homework, Barold. I'm a teacher, I know these things.”

Pattie walked out on the front porch and leaned against one of the banisters.

“Y’all come visit again!” She exclaimed. “But not for any time-associated shenanigans. I think most Woven Gulch folks have had enough of that!”

“No promises,” Lup replied, attempting to saddle the world’s largest bag of beef jerky onto the back of her steed. She drew a face on the bag with black marker. She named it Big Daddy Beef Boi.

Kravitz was the last to exit the house before Pattie saw them off. He turned to her and studied her face. Her eyes were still red from crying, but she looked less burdened now, less conflicted.

“You’re quite brave Pattie Doads,” He said to her, tipping his hat. “You’re made of grit and gumption, processing the will power to withstand dust storms, droughts and even the one act of god that not even the gods can foresee--heartache. You’re going to do well in this world.”

“Thank you,” She replied and offered a courageous smile. “...so much.”

He nodded again, then descended the porch steps and climbed onto the back of his own horse. Lup looked from Pattie to him. As they all start trotting away from the main house, she nudged him with her elbow,

“What was that about not being good at comforting?” She asked, giving him a smirk.

“I learn by example,” Kravitz said cooly. “And only from the best.”

“Nerd!” Lup said, making a face.

“Last one back at Clayridge pays!” Taako shouts, then snaps his reins. Garyl cuts into a dazzling gallop.

“Fuck you!” Lup shouts, spurring her steed into a blaze. Barry and Kravitz shoot each other knowing glances, and then all four take off into the horizon.

 

Towards the country where no dead men lay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finished!!! I'm so glad! Thank you so much for reading. When I first had this idea sort of tucked away in my notes, I never thought it would twist and turn the way it did and certainly has. 
> 
> Wow, writing this thing was such an ordeal. If any of it got confusing in any way, I apologize. This was my first time writing a story where time magic was such an important element and I was doing everything I could to make sure that events played out understandably. 
> 
> Anyway, thank you again for riding with me on this journey. YEE (and this time, with feeling) HAW!

**Author's Note:**

> Cowboys. Wizards. Mystery. what more can you ask for? Catch me over on tumblr as herbgerblin. Yeet.


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